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LINCOLN  ROOM 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 


LIBRARY 


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the  Class  of  1901 


^  founded  by 

HARLAN  HOYT  HORNER 
and 
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ABRAHAM    LINCOLN 

A  STORY  AND  A  PLAY 
BY 

MARY  HAZELTON  WADE 

Author  of  the  Little  Cousin  books,  etc. 


RICHARD  G.  BADGER 

THE  GORHAM  PRESS 
BOSTON 


Copyright,  19x4,  by  Richard  G.  Badger 


All  Rights  Reserved 


The  Gorham  Press,  Boston,  U.  S.  A. 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 
A  STORY 

AND 

A  PLAY 


THE  STORY 


THE  STORY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

THROUGHOUT  the  United  States, 
boys  and  girls  take  delight  in  cele- 
brating the  twelfth  of  February.  It  is 
because  on  that  day  the  great  and  good 
man,  Abraham  Lincoln,  first  opened  his  eyes  on 
this  world. 

The  home  to  which  the  baby  came  was  poor 
and  bare.  It  was  a  tiny  cabin  in  the  state  of  Ken- 
tucky, which  was  then  a  rough,  unsettled  coun- 
try. Around  the  cabin  were  thick  woods  where 
wild  animals  roamed  freely.  The  cry  of  cata- 
mounts and  the  howling  of  wolves  could  be 
heard  in  the  stillness  of  the  night.  Turkeys  and 
deer  often  ran  across  the  path  of  the  settlers. 
There  were  few  neighbors,  for  only  brave  peo- 
ple were  as  yet  willing  to  venture  so  far  into  the 
backwoods. 

Only  a  short  time  before  there  was  constant 
danger  from  the  Indians,  who  were  likely  to  at- 
tack the  white  people  at  any  moment.  Abra- 
ham's own  grandfather  was  killed  by  one  of  these 

7 


8  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

savages  while  he  was  busy  with  his  two  older 
sons  making  a  clearing  about  his  home.  The 
youngest  son,  Thomas,  who  was  afterwards 
Abraham's  father,  was  playing  near  them. 
When  their  father  fell,  the  older  boys  ran  off  to 
get  help,  telling  Thomas  to  watch  his  father's 
dead  body. 

As  soon  as  the  child  was  left  alone,  the  Indian, 
who  was  hiding  near  by,  saw  his  chance.  Terri- 
ble in  his  war  paint,  he  crept  up  towards  the  child 
and  was  about  to  seize  him  and  carry  him  away, 
when  one  of  the  brothers  came  hurrying  back. 
Whiz  flew  a  bullet  from  his  rifle !  The  savage 
fell  dead  and  the  boy  was  safe. 

In  this  kind  of  life,  so  full  of  danger,  the  boy 
Thomas  grew  up.  There  was  no  school  where  he 
could  learn  to  read  and  write.  The  days  were 
spent  out  of  doors,  cutting  down  the  trees  of  the 
forest  near  by,  hunting  wild  animals,  and  tending 
the  little  garden. 

When  Thomas  became  a  young  man  he  mar- 
ried a  girl  named  Nancy  Hanks  who  had  been 
brought  up  in  better  circumstances  than  he.  She 
had  been  to  school,  and  though  she  had  always 
lived  in  the  "backwoods,"  she  had  the  gentle  and 
beautiful  nature  of  a  true  lady. 


THE  STORY  9 

In  the  new  home  where  she  went  to  live  with 
her  husband,  the  young  wife  did  not  have  the 
comforts  to  which  we  are  used.  There  were  no 
carpets  to  spread  over  the  rough  unpainted  floor 
and  only  a  few  pieces  of  homemade  furniture. 
The  cooking  was  done  before  a  big  fireplace  from 
which  the  burning  logs  gave  the  only  light  after 
the  sun  had  set. 

After  Abraham's  sister  was  born,  the  family 
moved  to  a  different  place,  called  Rock  Spring 
Farm.  The  country  around  was  quite  beautiful, 
and  near  the  cabin,  half  hidden  by  a  clump  of 
trees  and  bushes,  was  a  deep  spring  of  clear  wa- 
ter. On  this  farm  the  little  Abraham  first  saw 
the  light,  and  here  he  lived  until  he  was  seven 
years  old. 

In  the  woods  near  by  he  could  watch  the  squir- 
rels and  rabbits  at  play.  There  was  the  spring 
close  at  hand  with  its  song  of  gladness;  there 
were  berries  to  pick  and  nuts  to  gather.  Yet  the 
little  boy  must  often  have  been  lonely,  since  he 
had  few  playfellows.  Then,  when  night  came, 
there  was  no  cosy,  cheerful  home  with  its  bright 
light  to  welcome  him— only  a  small,  dark  cabin 
with  its  bare  walls  and  floor,  and  a  hard  bed  un- 
der the  roof,  through  whose  cracks  the  rain  could 


io  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

beat  down  on  the  child's  face  below. 

Abraham  could  not  have  been  happy  in  those 
days.  Afterwards,  when  he  became  a  man,  he 
seldom  spoke  of  them,  even  to  his  dearest  friends. 
There  was  a  small  school-house  not  far  from 
the  farm,  and  here  Abraham  and  his  sister  learned 
their  a-b-e's.  Afterwards,  they  went  for  a  short 
time  to  another  school  four  miles  away. 

Abraham's  father  was  "easy  going"  as  people 
say.  He  liked  talking  with  his  friends  and 
dreaming  dreams  better  than  hard  work.  Stories 
came  to  him  of  a  richer  country  in  Indiana  where 
he  might  have  a  better  farm. 

"I  will  go  there  and  look  the  country  over," 
he  said  to  his  wife.  It  was  a  long  ways  off,  but 
as  he  was  a  good  carpenter  he  decided  to  make 
a  flat  boat  on  which  he  could  float  down  Knob 
Creek,  which  was  only  a  short  way  from  his 
home.  Then,  moving  from  one  river  to  another, 
he  would  at  last  reach  Indiana. 

The  boat  was  soon  made  and  Mr.  Lincoln 
started  out  on  his  journey.  When  he  reached  the 
new  country  he  was  much  pleased,  and  there,  in 
the  midst  of  a  forest,  he  decided  upon  the  place 
for  a  home.  He  would  return  at  once  for  his 
family.    He  could  not  float  his  flatboat  up  stream, 


THE  STORY  n 

however.  So  sold  it  to  a  settler  near  by,  and 
started  on  foot  for  Kentucky. 

At  this  time  Abraham  was  seven  years  old  and 
his  sister  Sarah  was  nine.  Like  all  other  chil- 
dren, they  were  probably  pleased  when  their 
father  got  back  and  told  of  the  new  home  which 
they  were  to  seek  in  Indiana.  They  could  not 
walk  all  the  way,  because  the  country  was  too 
rough  and  wild.  But  the  father  got  two  horses 
on  which  the  children  and  their  mother  rode  dur- 
ing the  first  part  of  the  journey. 

Towards  the  end  they  travelled  in  a  farm 
wagon  which  Mr.  Lincoln  hired  from  one  of  the 
settlers  along  the  way.  At  last  they  reached  a 
stretch  of  thick  forest,  and  there  in  its  midst  they 
made  ready  to  settle.  Winter  was  near  and  shel- 
ter must  be  put  up  at  once.  Abraham's  father 
set  to  work  and  built  what  is  called  a  half-faced 
camp.  That  is,  the  house  had  only  three  sides. 
The  fourth  was  left  open. 

There  was  no  floor,  neither  were  there  win- 
dows or  chimney,  and  the  wind  and  rain  were 
free  to  beat  their  way  inside.  For  about  a  year 
this  was  the  only  home  that  the  family  had. 

Abraham  was  tall  and  strong  for  his  age,  and 
he  worked  hard,  helping  his  father  clear  the  land 


12  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

for  a  farm.  From  morning  till  night  his  long 
arms  were  busy  felling  the  trees  or  ploughing 
the  ground  for  a  garden.  When  his  mother 
needed  meal  for  making  bread,  the  boy  would 
fill  some  bags  with  corn,  and  then  carry  it  on 
horseback  to  the  mill  seven  miles  away,  to  have 
it  ground. 

By  the  end  of  the  year  the  boy  had  helped  his 
father  make  a  better  home  than  the  poor  half- 
faced  camp,  but  even  now  there  were  neither  win- 
dows nor  door  nor  floor.  Soon  afterwards  Abra- 
ham's mother,  who  had  borne  so  many  hardships, 
suddenly  became  very  ill. 

There  was  no  doctor  at  hand  to  save  her,  and 
she  died,  leaving  her  two  children  with  their 
father  to  get  along  as  best  they  could.  How 
deeply  Abraham  had  loved  this  tender  mother, 
who  had  already  done  so  much  for  him!  He 
never  forgot  her,  and  whenever  he  spoke  of  her 
afterwards  his  voice  grew  soft  and  tender.  He 
called  her  his  "angel  mother." 

After  she  died,  Abraham's  sister  Sarah,  who 
was  then  only  eleven  years  old,  became  the  house- 
keeper. She  cooked  and  sewed  for  her  father 
and  brother  as  best  she  could.  It  must  have  been 
hard  work  for  the  poor  child,  and  she  was  prob- 


THE  STORY  13 

ably  glad  when  the  next  year  her  father  went  back 
to  Kentucky,  to  marry  a  widow  whom  he  had 
known  in  her  girlhood. 

School  Days 

The  new  stepmother  brought  a  large  wagon- 
load  of  furniture  and  clothing  to  her  Indiana 
home.  One  of  the  pieces  was  a  bureau  which  had 
cost  fifty  dollars.  It  must  have  seemed  very  won- 
derful to  Abraham  and  Sarah,  who  had  been 
used  to  rough  homemade  furniture  all  their  lives. 

When  Mrs.  Lincoln  looked  around  her  new 
home  she  said  she  would  not  be  satisfied  until  a 
floor  had  been  laid.  The  house  must  also  have 
windows  and  a  door.  When  these  had  been  at- 
tended to,  and  the  furniture  set  in  place,  Abra- 
ham was  more  comfortable  than  he  had  ever  been 
in  his  life. 

The  stepmother  had  a  loving  heart,  and  though 
she  had  three  children  of  her  own,  she  trtated 
Abraham  and  Sarah  very  kindly  and  did  all  she 
could  to  make  them  happy. 

"Even  if  we  live  in  these  backwoods,  they 
must  have  book  learning,"  she  declared.  "They 
shall  not  grow  up  ignorant." 


i4  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

There  was  a  small  schoolhouse  not  far  away, 
and  soon  after  the  stepmother  had  taken  charge 
of  the  family,  the  children  began  to  go  to  school. 
There  they  studied  "readin',  writin'  and  ci- 
pherinV 

There  were  few  books  in  the  school,  and 
neither  paper  nor  ink,  as  it  was  nearly  impossi- 
ble for  people  living  in  the  midst  of  the  forest  to 
get  such  things.  The  school-house  itself  was 
small  and  dark.  When  the  door  was  closed  the 
only  light  came  through  squares  of  greased  paper, 
which  were  used  instead  of  glass  for  windows. 

The  benches  where  the  children  sat  were  logs 
split  in  halves  and  set  up  on  legs.  Yet  Abraham 
was  so  glad  to  get  a  chance  to  learn,  that  he  was 
happy  during  the  short  time  he  was  able  to  go 
to  this  school.  He  loved  his  studies  so  much, 
that  after  working  hard  on  the  farm  all  day,  he 
used  every  spare  minute  of  the  evening  reading 
the  few  books  he  was  able  to  borrow  from  his 
neighbors,  or  doing  "sums"  with  bits  of  charcoal 
on  the  wooden  fire  shovel. 

There  were  no  lamps  nor  candles  in  the  house. 
The  boy,  however,  would  stretch  out  on  the  floor 
before  the  fireplace,  and  by  the  light  of  the  burn- 
ings logs,  he  managed  to  do  his  sums  and  his 


THE  STORY  15 

reading.  Abraham's  stepmother  soon  discov- 
ered that  he  had  a  bright  mind  and  she  encour- 
aged him  to  study.  She  loved  him  dearly,  for  he 
was  as  thoughtful  and  kindhearted  and  truthful 
as  he  was  eager  to  learn. 

"Abe  never  gave  me  a  cross  word  or  look.  I 
must  say  Abe  was  the  best  boy  I  ever  saw  or  ex- 
pect to  see,"  she  said  afterwards. 

When  Abraham  was  fourteen  years  old  he 
went  for  a  short  time  to  another  school,  and  again 
when  he  was  nearly  seventeen.  This  last  was 
four  or  five  miles  away,  but  it  was  better  than  any 
of  the  others.  Here  the  boy  had  a  chance  to  use 
pen  and  ink,  and  was  given  a  copy-book  in  which 
to  write. 

The  teacher  had  been  "out  in  the  world."  So, 
with  the  other  studies,  he  taught  these  backwood 
pupils  what  he  called  "manners."  He  showed 
them  how  to  enter  a  room  filled  with  people.  He 
trained  the  boys  in  taking  off  their  hats  and 
bowing  politely  to  the  girls  when  they  met  them. 

"How  much  our  teacher  knows!"  thought  the 
pupils,  and  though  they  were  awkward,  they  tried 
their  best  to  follow  the  master's  directions. 
When  Abraham  afterwards  left  his  country  home 
and  went  to  live  in  a  city,  he  was  probably  very 


1 6  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

glad  of  the  "manners"  he  learned  that  winter. 

There  were  other  things  which  he  enjoyed 
greatly  in  this  last  school.  One  of  them  was  the 
Friday  "speaking,"  when  the  boys  and  girls  took 
their  turns  in  standing  up  before  the  class  and 
recited  the  "pieces"  they  had  learned.  Then 
there  were  compositions.  At  one  time  Abraham 
wrote  on  "Cruelty  to  Animals."  His  tender 
heart  could  not  bear  to  have  dumb  creatures  suf- 
fer. Still  another  of  his  compositions  was  on 
"Temperance."  One  of  the  neighbors  admired 
this  so  much  that  he  had  it  printed  in  a  news- 
paper. 

Abraham  never  had  another  chance  to  attend 
school.  Altogether  he  spent  less  than  one  year 
in  a  school-room,  yet  "between  times"  he  taught 
himself  as  best  he  could,  borrowing  every  neigh- 
bor's book  he  could  get. 

This  borrowing  once  got  him  into  sad  trouble. 
Abraham  was  working  for  a  rich  man  named 
Crawford.  During  the  day  he  split  rails, 
ploughed  and  took  care  of  the  cattle.  He  some- 
times helped  in  the  house,  too,  and  even  tended 
the  baby  for  Mrs.  Crawford,  who  was  very  kind 
to  him  and  loaned  him  books,  which  he  read  after 
he  went  to  bed  at  night. 


THE  STORY  17 

One  evening  when  Abraham  had  finished  read- 
ing, he  tucked  the  book  away  between  the  logs 
in  the  wall  beside  his  bed,  as  he  usually  did  when 
he  was  ready  for  sleep.  Before  morning  a  storm 
arose,  and  he  woke  up  to  find  the  book  drenched 
through  from  the  rain  which  had  made  its  way 
through  the  chinks  of  the  wall. 

When  he  took  it  back,  Mr.  Crawford  said,  "I 
won't  accept  such  a  book.  You  may  keep  it,  but 
you  must  pay  for  it  by  pulling  fodder."  Abra- 
ham felt  quite  bitter  that  a  wealthy  man  like  Mr. 
Crawford  should  be  so  hard  upon  him,  a  poor 
boy.  But  he  set  to  work,  and  in  three  days  he 
earned  his  first  book.  It  was  Weem's  "Life  of 
Washington." 

For  weeks  afterwards  Abraham  spent  all  his 
spare  time  in  reading  and  rereading  his  precious 
book.  Over  and  over  again  he  followed  Wash- 
ington through  the  brave  adventures  of  his  youth 
and  the  battles  in  which  he  dared  so  much. 

While  Abraham  was  poring  over  the  life  of 
the  "Father  of  his  Country,"  the  boy  little 
dreamed  that  he  himself  would  become  the  wise, 
"Big  Brother."  Yes,  it  would  be  through  his 
love  and  foresight  that  America  would  be  saved, 
and  her  people  kept  together  in  one  great  family. 


1 8  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

"Robinson  Crusoe,"  "Aesop's  Fables,"  "Pil- 
grim's Progress"  and  a  "History  of  the  United 
States"  were  also  great  favorites  with  Abraham. 
He  came  to  know  them  almost  by  heart.  Then, 
of  course,  there  was  the  Bible,  which  he  had 
learned  to  love  when  a  tiny,  little  fellow.  His 
own  mother  had  often  read  it  to  him  before  he 
was  old  enough  to  study  it  for  himself. 

Much  as  Abraham  liked  to  read,  he  was  also 
fond  of  sports.  He  ran  races,  he  took  part  in 
wrestling  matches,  and  when  there  was  a  husking- 
bee  or  a  house-raising,  there  he  was  to  be  found, 
the  merriest,  happiest  one  of  the  whole  company. 
He  was  such  a  big,  strong  fellow,  six  feet  four 
inches  tall  before  he  was  twenty  years  old,  that 
he  could  outstrip  his  fellows  in  everything  he 
tried. 

No  one  around  could  chop  wood  or  split  rail 
so  fast  as  Abraham  Lincoln.  No  other  man  could 
lift  so  big  a  weight  as  he,  or  equal  him  in  wrest- 
ling. But  he  was  not  satisfied  with  doing  these 
things.  He  was  just  as  eager  to  be  a  fine  story 
teller,  to  be  a  clear  writer,  and  to  argue  so  well 
that  everyone  who  listened  would  be  forced  to 
agree  with  him.  He  soon  became  the  wonder  of 
the  whole  country  side,  and  people  would  gather 


THE  STORY  19 

about  him  whenever  they  had  a  chance  to  listen  to 
his  stories  and  speeches. 

Though  he  went  to  school  for  such  a  short 
time,  and  though  there  were  so  few  books  that 
he  could  get  hold  of,  yet  Abraham  was  constantly 
learning  in  other  ways.  People  from  other 
places  passed  through  the  country  from  time  to 
time,  and  the  boy  listened  eagerly  to  their  stories. 

He  would  often  repeat  these  stories  to  himself 
when  he  was  alone.  Then,  between  his  father 
and  his  men  friends  there  were  talks  to  which 
Abraham  gave  close  attention,  hoping  to  learn 
something  he  did  not  already  know.  Most  ex- 
citing of  all  was  what  he  heard  at  the  court-house 
in  the  town  fifteen  miles  away.  He  did  not  con- 
sider the  long  walk  through  the  woods,  but  when- 
ever it  was  possible  for  him  to  leave  his  work 
for  the  day,  he  would  set  out  for  the  town  with 
long,  swinging  steps. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  court-house  he  was  sure 
to  be  rewarded.  Men  and  women  were  tried  there 
for  wrong-doing,  and  they  were  often  defended 
by  great  lawyers  who  had  come  from  the  cities 
far  away.  Abraham  listened  carefully  to  the 
speeches  which  he  stored  away  in  his  mind.  At 
such  times  the  log-house  in  the  backwoods,   the 


20  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

hum-drum  ploughing  and  wood  chopping  were 
forgotten,  for  the  young  fellow  was  living  in 
thought  in  the  big,  outside  world. 

After  such  days  in  court,  Abraham  could  of- 
ten be  seen  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  field, 
when  he  should  have  been  at  work,  repeating  the 
speeches  he  had  heard  to  a  crowd  of  neighbors. 
So  well  did  he  speak,  that  they,  too,  forgot  the 
work  in  hand,  and  were  carried  far  away  from 
their  backwood's  home. 

Now,  in  the  books  Abraham  read,  and  in  the 
talks  and  speeches  he  heard,  there  were  words 
whose  meaning  he  did  not  know,  and  expressions 
that  were  not  clear.  Then  he  was  much  troubled. 
He  would  spend  a  long  time  thinking  over  the 
matter  and  trying  to  understand. 

At  such  times  he  would  say  to  himself  some- 
thing like  this,  "Whenever  I  speak  to  others,  no 
matter  what  the  subject  may  be,  it  shall  be  said 
so  clearly  and  simply,  that  every  one  will  under- 
stand me." 

He  kept  his  word.  In  the  great  speeches  he 
afterwards  made— speeches  which  stirred  the 
hearts  of  all  who  heard  them  and  which  will  live 
forever,  his  words  were  so  clear  and  simple  that 
everyone  could  understand. 


THE  STORY  21 

Out  in  the  World 

As  Abraham  grew  up,  more  and  more  people 
came  to  his  part  of  the  country  to  settle.  A  vil- 
lage called  Gentryville  grew  up  a  mile  or  so  from 
the  Lincoln  home.  In  the  general  store  there, 
Abraham  was  clerk  for  a  whole  winter.  Every 
evening  and  Saturday  afternoons,  this  store  was 
a  gathering-place  for  all  the  men  of  the  country 
side.  They  talked  politics,  told  stories,  and  read 
aloud  from  the  weekly  newspapers,  so  the  young 
clerk  learned  much  at  this  time  about  what  was 
going  on  in  the  world  outside. 

Mr.  Gentry,  the  owner  of  the  store,  took  a 
great  liking  to  his  young  clerk,  and  gave  him  a 
chance  to  see  something  of  that  outside  world. 
He  loaded  a  flat  boat  with  corn,  flour,  bacon  and 
other  things  raised  in  the  country  near  by,  and 
gave  it  into  the  charge  of  Abraham  and  his  son 
Allen.  They  were  to  go  down  the  Ohio  and  Mis- 
sissippi Rivers  and  sell  the  goods  to  the  owners 
of  the  plantations  where  sugar  and  cotton  were 
raised  by  negro  slaves.  He  promised  Abraham 
eight  dollars  a  month,  besides  paying  his  fare 
home  on  a  steamboat. 

This  seemed  a  large  sum  of  money  to  the 
young  man;  besides,  he  was  glad  of  the  chance 


22  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

to  travel  and  to  see  new  sights.  While  Abraham 
and  his  friend  Allen  were  away,  they  had  an  ex- 
citing adventure.  One  dark  night,  after  they  had 
drawn  the  flat  boat  up  to  the  shore  to  rest  till  morn- 
ing, seven  negroes  made  a  sudden  attack.  They 
meant  to  kill  the  young  men,  and  then  steal  the 
cargo  of  goods. 

But  Abraham  and  Allen  managed  to  defend 
themselves,  though  they  were  both  hurt  before 
they  were  able  to  drive  off  the  negroes  and  get 
the  boat  safely  out  into  the  middle  of  the  stream. 

The  money  which  Abraham  earned  at  this  time 
seemed  a  large  sum  to  him.  But  it  could  not  have 
been  so  precious  as  what  came  to  him  the  year 
before  when  he  was  plying  a  ferry  at  Anderson's 
Creek.  One  day  two  men  came  hurrying  down 
to  the  landing  and  engaged  Abraham  to  carry 
them  and  their  trunks  out  into  the  river  to  meet  a 
passing  steamer. 

When  the  work  was  done  and  the  men  were 
about  to  step  on  board  the  steamer,  each  one 
handed  him  a  half-dollar.  He  could  hardly  be- 
lieve his  eyes.  He  was,  for  the  first  time,  the 
owner  of  a  whole  dollar,  and  for  a  small  task 
which  had  taken  less  than  half  a  day!  It  seemed 
too  good  to  be  true. 


THE  STORY  23 

A  New  Home 

When  Abraham  was  twenty-one  years  old,  his 
father  decided  to  move  once  more.  He  learned 
that  farther  west  in  Illinois,  there  was  rich  prairie 
land  where  it  would  be  easy  to  make  a  comfort- 
able home.  Two  other  families  decided  to  go 
with  the  Lincolns.  Heavy  ox-carts  were  loaded 
with  furniture  and  supplies,  and  the  party  started 
out  with  hearts  full  of  hope. 

Abraham  carried  with  him  thirty  dollars'  worth 
of  "notions,"  which  he  sold  for  such  good  prices 
to  the  settlers  along  the  way,  that  by  the  end  of 
the  journey  he  had  gained  thirty  dollars  by  his 
sales. 

As  they  travelled  along,  a  small  thing  hap- 
pened which  showed  Abraham's  tender  heart 
even  for  dumb  creatures.  The  party  had  to  cross 
an  icy  stream,  and  when  they  reached  the  other 
side  they  found  that  a  dog  had  been  left  behind. 
It  stood  on  the  shore  crying  pitifully.  Should  it 
be  allowed  to  stay  there  and  starve? 

"Indeed  not,"  declared  Abraham.  He  hur- 
riedly drew  off  his  shoes,  waded  across  the 
stream,  and  was  soon  on  his  way  back  with  the 
dog  under  his  arm.  The  poor  little  creature  was 
now  so  happy  that  Lincoln  said  afterwards  he 


24  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

was  more  than  paid  for  his  trouble. 

After  Abraham  helped  the  family  get  settled 
in  the  new  home,  he  went  on  to  the  village  of 
New  Salem,  where  he  became  the  clerk  of  a 
man  named  Offut.  He  was  so  kind  and  merry 
and  told  such  good  stories,  that  people  liked  to 
come  to  the  store  for  the  sake  of  talking  with 
him,  just  as  the  folks  of  Gentryville  had  done. 
Besides  this,  they  found  he  was  so  honest,  that 
they  could  trust  him  in  the  smallest  matters. 

Now  it  happened,  that  one  night  after  Abra- 
ham had  closed  the  store,  he  counted  up  the 
money  he  had  received,  and  found  he  had  six 
cents  too  much.  He  was  troubled,  and  thought 
about  it  for  a  long  time.  At  last  he  remembered 
how  it  must  have  come  about.  He  had  given  the 
wrong  change  to  a  certain  woman. 

He  hastened  to  lock  up  the  store,  and  started 
at  once  for  the  woman's  house  three  miles  away. 
As  soon  as  he  arrived  there,  he  handed  her  the 
six  cents,  telling  her  he  had  made  a  mistake. 
Then,  happy  once  more,  he  went  home,  caring 
little  for  the  long  walk,  since  he  had  done  what 
was  right.  It  is  not  strange  that  such  things  as 
this  soon  won  for  him  the  name  of  "Honest 
Abe." 


THE  STORY  25 

While  Abraham  was  working  for  Mr.  Offut, 
he  was  sent  on  another  flat-boat  expedition  down 
the  Mississippi.  He  carried  bacon,  flour  and 
other  things  raised  on  the  farms  near  by,  and 
traded  them  oft  to  the  plantations  along  the  river, 
just  as  he  had  done  before.  This  time,  however, 
he  travelled  as  far  as  New  Orleans,  where  he 
saw  something  that  seemed  very  terrible.  It  was 
an  auction  of  slaves.  Little  children  were  taken 
from  their  mothers'  arms  and  sold  as  so  many 
pieces  of  furniture.  Women  were  parted  from 
their  husbands.  The  young  man  was  deeply  trou- 
bled at  the  sad  sight.  He  said  to  himself,  "In  this 
great  and  beautiful  country  of  America,  it  is 
dreadful  that  there  should  be  such  a  thing  as 
slavery." 

Captain  Abraham  Lincoln 

Two  years  after  Abraham  went  to  live  in  New 
Salem  a  war  broke  out.  It  was  between  the 
white  men  and  their  red  neighbors.  A  great  chief 
named  Black  Hawk  entered  Illinois  with  his 
braves  and  led  them  in  several  terrible  massacres 
against  the  white  people.  The  settlers  fled  from 
their  homes  in  fright,  and  an  army  was  raised  to 


26  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

rout  the  Indians. 

By  this  time  young  Lincoln  had  become  a 
great  favorite  in  his  part  of  the  country,  and  he 
was  chosen  captain  of  a  company  of  soldiers  who 
had  enlisted  in  the  war.  He  was  delighted  at 
the  honor,  because  it  showed  how  much  he  was 
liked.  He  said  afterwards  that  it  gave  him  more 
pleasure  than  anything  which  befell  him  in  later 
life. 

Now  it  happened  that  the  war  came  to  an  end 
before  Lincoln's  company  was  called  upon  to  do 
any  fighting,  but  the  men  were  in  camp  for  sev- 
eral months,  where  they  were  drilled  daily  and 
stood  ready  to  fight  if  called  upon.  They  had 
much  spare  time,  however,  in  which  they  ran 
races,  had  jumping  and  wrestling  matches  and 
other  sports,  and  Abraham  enjoyed  the  good-na- 
tured companionship  of  so  many  young  men. 

Though  they  had  not  gone  to  the  front,  and 
had  taken  part  in  no  fighting  with  the  red  men, 
they  often  talked  together  about  the  fearful  mass- 
acres of  which  they  heard.  More  and  more  they 
hated  the  Indians  and  felt  a  longing  to  destroy 
them.  One  day,  as  some  of  them  were  talking  to- 
gether about  this  very  matter,  an  old  Indian,  poor 
and  feeble,  came  walking  into  the  camp. 


THE  STORY  27 

"A  spy!"  the  soldiers  shouted,  and  they 
rushed  upon  him.  They  felt  such  hate  for  all 
Indians  that  now,  when  one  of  these  savages 
stood  in  their  midst,  they  were  eager  to  kill  him 
without  giving  him  a  chance  to  speak  for  him- 
self. 

Their  frightened  prisoner  drew  out  a  bit  of 
paper  and  held  it  up.  It  was  a  pass  from  Gen- 
eral Cass  saying  the  Indian  was  honest,  and  a 
friend  of  the  white  men. 

"Perhaps  General  Cass  did  not  write  the  pass," 
said  one  of  the  soldiers. 

They  hated  the  Indians  so  much,  they  did  not 
wish  to  lose  the  chance  of  killing  one  of  them 
now  that  they  had  him  in  their  power,  so  they 
were  quite  ready  to  believe  that  the  pass  was  not 
a  true  one. 

"Shoot  him!"  cried  one  after  another. 

Several  guns  were  aimed  at  the  shivering  old 
creature,  and  in  another  instant  he  would  have 
been  killed,  when  suddenly  Captain  Lincoln  stood 
in  front  of  his  men,  with  stern  face  and  flashing 
eyes.  Rushing  between  them  and  the  Indian,  he 
cried  out: 

"Hold  on!  I  command  you  not  to  fire."  At 
the  same  moment  he  knocked  up  the  guns  that 


28  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

were  pointed  at  the  body  of  the  red  man.  The 
men  were  so  angry,  however,  that  they  were  not 
willing  to  obey  the  order  of  their  captain. 

uAre  you  soldiers,  and  yet  willing  to  kill  a  poor 
old  man  who  cannot  defend  himself?  You  would 
bring  disgrace  upon  your  country  by  such  a  cow- 
ardly deed!"  cried  Lincoln,  in  ringing  tones. 
His  eyes  were  fairly  blazing  as  he  spoke. 

"He's  a  spy!"  answered  one  of  the  men. 

"If  it  be  true,"  said  Lincoln,  "he  must  die. 
But  till  it  is  proved,  any  one  who  attempts 
to  kill  him,  must  settle  with  me.  I  am  ready  to 
fight  it  out  with  each  one  of  you.  In  the  mean- 
time, disband." 

The  men,  with  deep  scowls,  lowered  their  guns 
and  turned  away.  Lincoln  was  left  alone  with 
the  Indian.  He  examined  the  pass  and  saw  that 
it  was  a  true  one. 

"You  are  free,"  he  said  to  the  old  man.  Too 
grateful  to  answer  in  words,  the  Indian  knelt 
down  and  kissed  the  feet  of  the  young  captain. 

After  the  War 

When  the  Black  Hawk  War  came  to  an  end, 
Lincoln  went  back  to  New  Salem,  reaching  his 


THE  STORY  29 

home  just  ten  days  before  the  time  to  elect  men 
for  the  state  legislature. 

He  was,  as  we  know,  a  great  favorite  in  the 
town.  "Why  not  let  the  people  use  my  name  for 
representative?"  he  thought.  "I  shall  lose  noth- 
ing if  I  fail  to  be  elected." 

His  many  frends  were  pleased,  and  when  the 
election  day  came,  all  the  men  in  New  Salem  ex- 
cept three  voted  for  "Abe."  The  rest  of  the  dis- 
trict, however,  favored  another  man  more  strong- 
ly, and  Lincoln  lost  the  election.  What  should 
he  do  now?  He  had  no  money  and  no  work. 
Mr.  Offut,  who  had  been  a  true  friend,  had  failed 
and  given  up  his  business. 

"Shall  I  become  a  blacksmith  or  a  lawyer?" 
thought  Lincoln.  His  long,  strong  arms  were 
well  fitted  for  a  blacksmith's  trade.  But  then 
there  was  the  bright,  quick  mind  which  must  be 
kept  busy. 

"I  will  be  a  lawyer,"  Lincoln  finally  decided. 

Yet  he  did  not  know  enough  to  practice  law. 
He  must  study  a  great  deal  before  he  could  carry 
out  his  wish,  but  after  much  thinking  he  planned 
how  to  bring  it  about. 

"I  will  keep  a  store,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"There  I  will  have  enough  spare  time  to  study 


3o  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

law.     When  I  have  learned  enough,  I  can  be  a 
lawyer." 

He  got  another  man  named  Berry  for  a  part- 
ner, and  they  started  out  with  great  hopes.  Lin- 
coln had  the  time  he  wished  for  study,  and  every 
spare  moment  was  spent  poring  over  some  law 
books  he  had  found  in  the  bottom  of  a  barrel  of 
rubbish,  which  another  man  who  needed  the 
money  had  sold  him  for  a  half-dollar. 

He  kept  these  books  close  at  hand,  so  that 
the  instant  a  customer  left  the  store,  he  could 
go  back  to  his  studies,  if  only  for  five  or  ten 
minutes.  To  most  people  these  books  would  seem 
very  tiresome,  but  to  Lincoln  they  were  wonder- 
fully interesting. 

In  the  meantime  the  town  of  New  Salem  was 
growing  smaller  every  day,  and  there  were  fewer 
and  fewer  people  to  trade  at  the  store.  Besides, 
Mr.  Berry  showed  himself  of  little  worth.  In  a 
short  time  the  business  failed,  and  Lincoln  found 
himself  with  a  large  debt  which  it  took  years  to 
pay.  He  afterwards  laughingly  called  it  his  "Na- 
tional Debt." 

When  the  store  was  given  up,  Lincoln  did  any 
kind  of  work  he  could  get.  Yet  he  still  kept  up 
his  study  of  the  law,  carrying  a  book  with  him 


THE  STORY  31 

wherever  he  went,  reading  as  he  walked  along  the 
street,  or  whenever  he  could  rest  a  moment  from 
rail-splitting  or  farming. 

At  this  time  he  took  great  pleasure  in  read- 
ing the  plays  of  William  Shakespeare,  as  well  as 
his  law  books.  One  day  he  received  some  good 
news.  He  had  been  made  a  surveyor  of  lands. 
It  was  the  very  work  that  George  Washington 
had  done  so  well  when  a  young  man.  Lincoln 
was  delighted.  He  was  to  be  paid  three  dollars 
a  day,  and  this  seemed  a  large  sum. 

But  he  knew  little  about  surveying.  What  did 
that  matter?  He  would  set  to  work  and  learn 
the  business  at  once.  So  he  went  to  the  school- 
master, who  gave  him  all  the  help  he  needed  dur- 
ing the  next  few  weeks  to  make  him  a  good  sur- 
veyor. A  short  time  after  this  he  was  made  post- 
master, but  the  town  was  so  small  and  there  were 
so  few  letters,  that  Lincoln  often  carried  them 
about  in  his  hat. 

Lincoln  the  Lawyer 

Mr.  Lincoln  was  now  twenty-five  years  old. 
He  had  been  farm  hand,  rail-splitter,  carpenter, 
clerk,  ferryman,  soldier,  storekeeper,  surveyor  and 


32  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

postmaster.  Still,  down  deep  in  his  heart  was 
the  longing  to  be  a  lawyer,  which  had  been  there 
ever  since  he  was  a  boy. 

He  was  very  poor,  and  his  debt  must  be  paid; 
yet  he  would  not  give  up  the  idea  of  becoming  a 
lawyer,  and  a  great  one,  too.  And  now  some- 
thing happened  which  was  of  great  help  in  carry- 
ing out  his  wish.  He  gained  the  place  in  the 
legislature  he  had  failed  to  win  two  years 
before.  It  was  because  not  only  the  people  of 
New  Salem,  but  of  all  that  part  of  the  country, 
now  had  faith  in  "Honest  old  Abe." 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  new  life  to  the 
backwoods  man.  As  he  took  his  place  in  the 
state  house  with  other  law-makers,  no  one  noticed 
him  particularly.  He  was  homely  and  awkward, 
with  a  sad  face  and  a  quiet  manner.  But  his  mind 
was  full  of  fire  and  his  heart  beat  with  a  steady 
love  of  the  right.  In  a  little  while  people  would 
discover  that  this  was  no  common  man,  and  that 
a  hero  was  moving  among  them. 

Mr.  Lincoln  staid  in  the  legislature  for  eight 
years.  During  that  time  he  finished  his  study  of 
the  law  and  started  out  in  business  for  himself. 
He  was  still  very  poor,  and  as  people  were  often 
slow  in  seeking  help  from  a  new  lawyer,  he  won- 


THE  STORY  33 

dered  how  he  should  manage  to  pay  his  way  for 
the  first  few  months. 

With  a  brave  heart,  however,  he  decided  to  try 
his  fortune  in  Springfield.  He  travelled  there  on 
horseback,  carrying  his  few  clothes  in  two  saddle 
bags.  As  soon  as  he  reached  the  city  he  went 
to  the  store  of  Mr.  Speed,  one  of  his  friends,  and 
asked  him  the  cost  of  a  bedstead  and  its  furnish- 
ings. 

"Seventeen  dollars,"  was  the  answer. 

Lincoln  replied  that  though  the  price  might 
be  cheap,  he  did  not  have  money  enough  to  buy 
one. 

"If  you  will  trust  me  till  Christmas  time,"  he 
said,  "I  will  pay  you  then."  "That  is,"  he  added, 
"if  I  succeed  as  a  lawyer." 

"But  suppose  you  do  not  succeed?"  Mr.  Speed 
answered. 

Lincoln's  face  became  very  sad.  "If  I  fail, 
I  don't  know  when  I  can  pay  you."  As  he  spoke 
his  voice  was  as  sorrowful  as  his  face. 

"But  there  is  a  way  out  of  having  any  debt  at 
all,  "his  friend  now  suggested.  "I  have  a  large 
room  up  stairs  with  two  beds  in  it.  You  are 
welcome  to  share  the  room  with  me." 

A  moment  afterwards  Lincoln,  armed  with  his 


34  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

saddle  bags,  was  on  his  way  up  the  stairs,  as  joy- 
ful as  he  had  been  sad  before.  Leaving  them  in 
the  middle  of  the  floor,  he  ran  down  again,  crying 
out: 

"Well,  Speed,  I'm  moved." 

Another  friend  offered  to  give  him  his  board 
free,  so  he  managed  to  get  along  till  he  could 
earn  his  own  living.  It  was  not  long  before  the 
people  began  to  praise  the  wise  and  clever 
speeches  of  the  new  lawyer.  Besides,  they  hon- 
ored him  for  his  honesty  and  kindness.  He  was 
unlike  many  lawyers. 

He  was  not  willing  to  work  for  a  man  if  he 
thought  him  in  the  wrong.  But  if  he  believed 
that  man  had  been  treated  unjustly,  he  did  not 
count  the  time  and  thought  spent  in  winning  the 
case.  Moreover,  he  worked  just  as  willingly  for 
a  person  who  was  too  poor  to  pay  him,  as  he  did 
for  the  rich  man  who  could  give  him  a  large  sum 
of  money.  Always  and  everywhere  it  was  the 
right  that  interested  Abraham  Lincoln. 

In  those  days  lawyers  went  about  the  country 
to  attend  court  in  different  places.  They  usually 
travelled  on  horseback,  for  there  were  few  rail- 
roads. On  one  of  these  trips  Lincoln  went  with 
a  party  of  other  lawyers.     As  they  entered  a 


THE  STORY  35 

narrow  lane  they  were  obliged  to  go  two  by  two. 
Lincoln  and  his  friend,  Mr.  Hardin,  happened 
to  be  the  last  ones.  Suddenly  Lincoln  stopped. 
He  had  spied  two  baby  birds  beside  the  road. 
The  wind  had  blown  the  helpless  little  creatures 
out  of  their  nest  in  some  tree  top. 

In  another  moment  Lincoln  had  sprung  from 
his  horse  and  was  busy  hunting  about  for  the 
nest.  Mr.  Hardin  went  on,  and  catching  up  with 
the  rest  of  the  party,  he  told  them  what  his  friend 
was  doing.  When  Lincoln  afterwards  joined 
them,  they  laughed  at  him,  but  this  did  not  trou- 
ble him  in  the  least. 

He  only  said,  "I  could  not  have  slept  if  I  had 
not  restored  those  little  birds  to  their  mother." 

Though  his  mind  was  now  busy  with  hard 
law  problems,  his  heart  was  as  tender  as  ever  for 
all  helpless  creatures,  no  matter  how  unimportant 
they  might  seem  to  others. 

Children  were  always  very  dear  to  Mr.  Lin- 
coln. No  matter  how  busy  he  might  be,  he  could 
always  take  time  to  help  a  child  who  was  in  trou- 
ble. One  day  he  was  on  the  way  to  his  office, 
when  he  noticed  a  little  girl  standing  on  the  side- 
walk in  front  of  her  home.  She  was  crying  bit- 
terly.    He  stopped  to  ask  what  was  the  matter. 


36  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

"I  shall  miss  the  train,"  she  sobbed.  "The  ex- 
pressman hasn't  come  for  my  trunk." 

"That  is  too  bad,"  Lincoln  answered,  at  the 
same  time  gently  patting  her  head.  "Tell  me,  my 
child,  where  you  were  going." 

"To  visit  my  aunt.  And  a  little  frind  of  mine 
was  to  go  with  me,  and  I  have  never  been  on  the 
cars  in  my  life,  — and  O  dear!  my  friend  is  prob- 
ably at  the  station  waiting  for  me  now." 

At  this  thought  she  began  to  cry  afresh.  Mr. 
Lincoln's  tender  heart  was  touched. 

"How  big  is  the  trunk?"  he  asked.  "If  it  isn't 
too  big,  there  is  time  enough." 

As  he  spoke  he  made  his  way  up  to  the  door 
of  the  house,  where  the  child's  mother  was  stand- 
ing. She  led  the  way  inside  and  pointed  out  the 
trunk.  It  was  a  small  one.  Lincoln  lifted  it 
easily  to  his  strong  shoulders,  at  the  same  time 
bidding  the  little  girl  to  wipe  her  eyes. 

"Come,  quick,  and  I  guess  we  can  catch  the 
train,"  he  said  cheerily. 

With  the  child  by  his  side,  he  strode  down  the 
street.  They  were  still  some  distance  from  the 
station  when  they  heard  the  train  coming. 

"Take  my  hand,  little  one,  we'll  get  there  yet," 
Lincoln  told  the  child.   With  the  trunk  still  on  his 


THE  STORY  37 

shoulder,  and  the  girl's  tiny  hand  clasped  tightly 
in  his  own  big,  strong  one,  the  station  was 
reached  before  the  train  pulled  out. 

As  the  young  lawyer  put  his  little  charge  on 
board,  he  kissed  her  good-bye,  saying,  "Now  have 
a  real  good  time." 

Lincoln  had  not  practiced  law  very  long  be- 
fore the  best  people  of  Springfield  began  to  in- 
vite him  to  their  homes.  He  was  still  "poor  as  a 
church  mouse,"  but  he  was  so  bright  and  clever, 
and  such  a  good  story  teller,  that  no  gathering 
seemed  a  success  without  him. 

And  so  Honest  Abe,  the  backwoods  rail-split- 
ter, was  now  often  the  manager  of  a  dance,  or 
the  chief  speaker  at  a  dinner  party. 

At  this  time  he  became  acquainted  with  a  Miss 
Mary  Todd,  a  handsome  and  witty  young  girl, 
who  had  come  from  Kentucky  to  visit  her  mar- 
ried sister.  She  chose  Mr.  Lincoln  out  of  the 
many  young  men  in  Springfield  who  admired  her, 
and  the  two  were  married  when  Lincoln  was 
thirty-three  years  old. 

He  was  still  so  poor  that  he  could  not  afford 
to  set  up  house-keeping,  so  he  and  his  young  wife 
went  to  board  for  a  while  at  a  cheap  tavern,  where 
their  food  and  room  together  cost  only  four  dol- 


38  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

lars  a  week. 

The  fame  of  the  young  lawyer  was  now  grow- 
ing fast,  and  more  people  sought  his  services 
every  year.  The  time  came  when  a  man  was  will- 
ing to  pay  five  thousand  dollars  for  his  help  in  a 
single  case.  How  different  this  was  from  those 
first  days  in  Springfield,  when  Lincoln  was  sat- 
isfied to  receive  a  fee  of  five  dollars. 

No  matter  how  large  a  sum  was  offered,  how- 
ever, he  was  never  willing  to  help  anyone  who 
seemed  to  be  in  the  wrong.  Nor  was  he  ever  too 
busy  to  aid  those  who  had  been  his  friends  in  his 
early  days  of  sadness  and  struggle. 

In  this  time  of  success,  he  was  able  to  repay  the 
kindness  of  the  Armstrong  family  who  had  been 
good  to  him  when  he  was  a  poor  clerk  in  New 
Salem.  Many  a  time  Mrs.  Armstrong  had  been 
as  tender  as  a  mother  when  he  was  poor  and 
homeless.  And  now  her  son  Jack  was  accused  of 
murder,  and  the  trouble  was  breaking  her  heart, 
Lincoln  used  his  bright  mind  to  defend  the  fellow. 
When  the  trial  came,  he  spoke  with  such  feeling 
that  the  hearts  of  all  who  listened  were  deeply 
touched.  More  than  this,— his  wise  words  proved 
that  young  Armstrong  was  innocent  and  he  was 
set  free. 


THE  STORY  39 

During  the  years  in  which  Mr.  Lincoln  was 
practicing  law,  he  heard  much  about  slavery. 
Some  of  the  states  believed  it  to  be  right,  and 
others  declared  it  was  wrong.  Lincoln  still  felt 
as  he  did  when  as  a  young  man  he  had  seen  a 
slave  auction  in  New  Orleans.  He  thought  of- 
ten of  the  words  in  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence, "All  men  are  created  equal." 

And  yet  he  would  say  to  himself,  "Americans 
hold  slaves." 

Whenever  he  spoke  of  slavery  in  public  he 
gave  such  good  reasons  against  it,  that  all  who 
heard  him  were  moved.  Now  there  was  a  cer- 
tain senator  of  the  United  States,  whom  Lin- 
coln had  known  when  he  first  started  out  in 
Springfield  as  a  lawyer.  This  man,  Stephen  A. 
Douglas,  had  become  famous  throughout  the 
country,  and  had  won  for  himself  the  name  of 
"The  Little  Giant." 

Mr.  Douglas  believed  so  strongly  that  slavery 
was  just,  he  succeeded  in  winning  the  right  to 
own  slaves  for  two  states  where  they  had  not 
been  held  before.  Just  after  he  had  done  this 
he  came  back  to  his  old  home  in  Springfield,  and 
made  a  great  speech  there  defending  slavery. 

Lincoln  answered  this  speech  so  well,  that  he 


4o  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

won  the  greatest  praise  for  himself.  After  this 
Mr.  Douglas  made  other  speeches,  but  every  one 
was  followed  by  a  still  greater  one  from  Lincoln. 
It  seemed  almost  laughable  when  people  thought 
about  it;  here  was  this  backwoodsman,  a  man  of 
only  a  few  months'  schooling,  holding  his  own 
against  the  polished  gentleman  of  fine  education. 
The  railsplitter  standing  up  against  the  "Little 
Giant  1" 

A  more  wonderful  thing  was  yet  to  happen. 
The  time  soon  came  for  Douglas  to  run  again  for 
the  United  States  Senate.  And  Abraham  Lincoln 
was  chosen  to  run  against  him !  Then  it  was  that 
Lincoln's  friends  made  plans  for  a  debate  between 
the  two  men.  Seven  meetings  were  taken  up  with 
this  debate.  So  nobly  did  Lincoln  speak,  so 
grandly  did  he  stand  for  right  and  justice,  that 
the  whole  country  now  rang  with  his  praise.  He 
had  suddenly  become  a  leader  and  master  of  men. 

As  it  happened,  however,  he  was  not  made 
senator,  but  Douglas  was  again  elected.  If  Lin- 
coln had  worked  in  a  certain  way,  this  would  not 
have  happened,  but  he  had  begun  to  look  ahead. 
He  wished  to  be  chosen  President  of  the  United 
States !  To  do  this,  he  thought  it  would  be  wis- 
est to  let  Douglas  win  the  election  for  senator. 


THE  STORY  41 

He  planned  rightly,  for  two  years  afterwards, 
in  the  year  i860,  his  dream  came  true. 

The  rail-splitter,  Abraham  Lincoln,  who  had 
spent  less  than  one  year  in  a  school-room,  was 
chosen  by  the  people  of  the  United  States  to  be 
their  next  President.  The  child,  born  in  a  rough 
log  cabin,  who  had  lived  in  his  early  days  in  a 
two-faced  camp,  had  by  his  own  will  reached  the 
highest  place  his  country  could  give  him. 

Henceforth  it  was  for  him  to  guide,  not  one 
small  body  of  men,  not  one  state,  but  the  whole 
United  States.  When  the  news  came  to  Mr.  Lin- 
coln, he  said  quietly,  "There's  a  little  woman  who 
would  like  to  hear  this.     I  will  go  and  tell  her." 

With  these  words  he  left  his  friends  and  went 
home  to  let  his  wife  hear  what  had  happened. 
Many,  many  years  ago,— when  her  husband  was 
poor  and  little  known,  she  had  declared  that  some 
day  he  would  be  President.  The  people  who 
heard  her  then  must  have  smiled  at  the  idea. 

Lincoln  the  President 

Before  Mr.  Lincoln  left  his  quiet  home  for 
Washington,  he  went  to  visit  his  old  stepmother, 
whom  he  had  always  loved  dearly.  She  cried  as 
she  bade  him  good-bye. 


42  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

"I  fear  that  enemies  will  take  your  life,"  she 
told  him. 

She  seemed  to  feel  that  she  would  never  see 
this  dear  stepson  again,  and  Mr.  Lincoln  him- 
self was  overcome  with  sadness.  He  could  not 
shake  it  off  for  some  time. 

The  White  House,  the  beautiful  home  for  pres- 
idents at  Washington,  was  waiting  for  the  Lin- 
coln family,  and  here  they  settled  themselves  af- 
ter the  thundering  of  cannon  and  the  cheers  of  the 
people  told  the  world  that  Abraham  Lincoln  was 
now  at  the  head  of  the  government. 

Four  baby  boys  had  been  born  to  the  Lincolns 
in  Springfield.  One  of  them  had  died  there,  but 
there  were  still  three  little  sons  to  enjoy  the  new 
life  of  the  big  city,  and  President  Lincoln  was 
never  so  happy  as  when  he  could  frolic  with  his 
boys  in  the  White  House  gardens.  Heavy  cares, 
however,  began  to  press  upon  him  and  kept  him 
very  busy.  There  was  great  trouble  in  the  land. 
Clouds  of  war  were  fast  spreading  over  the  blue 
sky  of  peace.  The  question  Lincoln  had  asked 
himself  when  a  young  man  must  now  be  settled. 

Should  there  be  slaves  in  the  country  or  not? 
Some  of  the  states  said  uNo,"  and  others  said 
"Yes,"  declaring  that  each  state  should  have  the 


THE  STORY  43 

right  to  decide  for  itself. 

Lincoln  had  scarcely  time  to  get  used  to  his 
new  duties  before  the  war  burst  forth, — a  ter- 
rible war.  Then  it  was  that  the  new  President 
showed  how  great  he  was,— how  wise  and  strong, 
how  loving  towards  all,  whether  they  believed  as 
he  did  or  not. 

No  other  man  in  the  whole  country  could  have 
rilled  his  place,  for  no  other  had  such  a  great 
heart  and  farseeing  mind.  Night  and  day  he  was 
busy  planning  how  the  war  might  be  ended  and 
the  country  saved.  Yet,  with  the  great  load  of 
care,  he  was  ever  willing  to  stop  and  listen  to 
the  stories  of  those  who  were  in  trouble. 

More  than  one  unhappy  woman  came  to  beg  for 
the  life  of  her  husband  or  son  who  had  been  sen- 
tenced to  die.     They  were  never  turned  away. 

"Let  the  man  live  and  have  one  more  chance," 
the  President  would  say  in  one  case  after  another. 

"His  heart  is  too  tender,"  people  sometimes 
declared.  But  they  did  not  know  him.  When 
firmness  was  needed,  no  one  could  be  more  fear- 
less than  he.  He  seemed  then  to  forget  every- 
thing else  in  doing  his  duty. 

How  he  grieved  for  the  soldiers  dying  in  bat- 
tle, and  for  the  loved  ones  at  home  who  were 


44  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

left  to  grieve  for  them !  His  great  heart  would 
have  been  broken  over  the  sorrows  of  others  if 
his  strong  will  had  not  turned  his  thoughts  at 
times  to  other  things. 

Because  of  this  he  was  still  able  to  see  the  fun 
in  whatever  was  happening  around  him.  He 
might  be  discussing  a  most  serious  question  with 
the  men  who  made  up  his  cabinet.  Suddenly  he 
would  think  of  a  funny  story  which  he  would  re- 
peat so  cleverly,  that  all  were  set  laughing. 
Moreover,  this  very  story  might  make  them  un- 
derstand the  question  which  had  troubled  them 
better  than  if  they  should  spend  hours  in  talking 
seriously  about  it. 

Whenever  he  could  spare  the  time,  President 
Lincoln  would  ride  out  to  the  hospitals  near 
Washington  to  visit  the  sick  and  wounded  sol- 
diers. He  had  kind  and  tender  words  for  each, 
and  the  sight  of  his  sorrowful  face,  so  full  of  love 
for  all,  gave  courage  to  many  a  suffering  man. 

While  Lincoln  was  feeling  so  strongly  for  oth- 
ers, a  great  sorrow  came  into  his  own  home.  His 
favorite  son  Willie,  a  bright,  lovable  boy,  was 
taken  ill  and  died.  It  seemed  as  though  the 
father's  heart  would  break.  New  lines  of  sad- 
ness came  into  his  face  and  he  never  seemed  quite 


THE  STORY  45 

the  same  afterwards. 

Alter  Willie's  death  President  Lincoln  tried 
to  comfort  himself  with  his  youngest  son  "Tad," 
a  merry  little  fellow.  No  matter  how  busy  his 
father  might  be,  Tad  was  allowed  to  run  in  and 
out  of  the  office  whenever  he  wished.  Many  a 
time  the  little  boy  spent  the  whole  evening  there, 
curling  himself  up  upon  the  floor  when  he  was 
tired  out,  and  dropping  off  to  sleep.  Then  his 
father  would  lift  the  child  tenderly  in  his  strong 
arms  and  carry  him  off  to  bed. 

Tad  probably  had  more  freedom  in  the  White 
House  than  any  other  President's  child  since  then. 
The  little  boy  was  very  fond  of  a  tame  goat  and 
once  when  he  was  away  with  his  mother,  Mr. 
Lincoln  wrote  his  wife:  "Tell  dear  Tad  that  poor 
Nanny  Goat  is  lost,  and  Mrs.  Cuthbert  and  I  are 
in  distress  about  it.  The  day  you  left,  Nanny 
was  found  resting  herself  and  chewing  her  little 
cud  on  the  middle  of  Tad's  bed,  but  now  she  is 
gone.  The  gardner  kept  complaining  that  she 
destroyed  the  flowers  till  it  was  concluded  to 
bring  her  down  to  the  White  House.  This  was 
done,  and  the  second  day  she  disappeared  and 
has  not  been  heard  of  since.  This  is  the  last  we 
know  of  poor  Nanny.'* 


46  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

We  can  thus  see  that  even  in  the  midst  of  ter- 
rible care  and  worry  over  his  country,  President 
Lincoln  found  time  to  interest  himself  in  what 
was  dear  to  his  little  boy.  The  older  son  Robert 
was  away  at  this  time  in  college,  but  after  he 
graduated  he  came  home  to  take  part  in  the 
war. 

On  the  first  day  of  January,  1863,  President 
Lincoln  signed  his  name  to  a  very  important  pa- 
per about  which  he  had  been  thinking  for  a  long 
time.  By  this  paper  all  the  slaves  in  the  United 
States  were  set  free.  When  the  news  spread  that 
this  had  been  done,  the  whole  country  was  great- 
ly excited. 

Many  of  President  Lincoln's  best  friends 
thought  he  was  unwise.  They  said:  "It  is  too 
early  to  set  the  slaves  free." 

Afterwards,  however,  people  came  to  see  that 
it  was  the  best  thing  possible,  and  that  Lincoln 
had  chosen  the  right  time. 

The  war  raged  on  and  news  kept  coming  to 
Washington  of  one  terrible  battle  after  another. 
Sometimes  it  seemed  as  though  one  side  would 
win,  and  sometimes  the  other.  Then  came  the 
hard  fight  at  Gettysburg,  when  the  turning-point 
was  reached. 


THE  STORY  47 

The  end  of  the  war  was  now  in  sight.  After 
that  battle  it  was  decided  that  the  field  where  it 
had  taken  place  should  be  made  into  a  great  ceme- 
tery. Soldiers  who  fell  in  the  war,  no  matter 
on  what  side  they  had  fought,  should  be  buried 
there. 

A  day  was  chosen  on  which  the  field  of  Get- 
tysburg should  be  dedicated.  Thousands  of  peo- 
ple from  different  parts  of  the  country  gathered 
there.  William  Everett,  a  great  orator,  was 
the  chief  speaker.  For  two  hours  the  immense 
gathering  before  him  listened  in  wonder.  The 
grace  of  the  man,  the  charm  of  his  voice,  the 
beauty  of  his  words,  all  moved  his  listeners  deeply, 
and  when  the  speech  came  to  an  end,  the  applause 
was  tremendous. 

At  last  the  people  became  quiet,  and  another 
speaker  rose  before  them.  It  was  President  Lin- 
coln, tall,  thin,  homely,  ungraceful.  Many  of 
those  present  had  never  seen  their  President  be- 
fore. They  were  almost  shocked  at  the  differ- 
ence between  him  and  the  elegant,  polished  Wil- 
liam Everett.     And  now  Lincoln  began  to  speak. 

His  manner  was  awkward,  but  the  first  sen- 
tence was  scarcely  finished  when  there  came  a 
change.     The  eyes  of  the  speaker  began  to  burn 


48  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

with  the  fire  of  deep  feeling.  His  voice  became 
deep  and  powerful.  His  manner  was  no  longer 
lacking  in  grace.  He  had  forgotten  himself  in 
his  message. 

And  his  listeners?  The  words  of  the  speaker 
were  so  simple,  yet  so  strong,  that  they  longed 
to  do  the  bidding  of  this  man  who  seemed  to-day 
as  one  sent  from  God.  Yes,  their  country  must 
have  a  new  birth  of  freedom  and  it  should  be 
through  their  unselfish  devotion. 

It  was  not  strange,  therefore,  that  when  the 
speech  came  to  an  end  there  was  no  sound  in  that 
great  gathering.  The  feeling  was  too  deep.  The 
silence  spoke  more  strongly  than  the  loudest  ap- 
plause could  have  done. 

To-day  the  world  looks  upon  the  Gettysburg 
Address  as  one  of  the  greatest  speeches  ever 
made.  The  boys  and  girls  of  America  take  de- 
light in  reciting  it,  and  as  they  do  so  they  think 
of  Abraham  Lincoln,  the  hero,  the  lover  and 
savior  of  his  country. 

On  the  fourth  of  March,  1865,  Lincoln  was 
again  made  President,  and  on  that  day  he  made 
another  wonderful  speech  which  will  be  long  re- 
membered. He  pled  for  good  will  towards  all 
men,  whether  they  had  fought  for  or  against  their 


THE  STORY  49 

country,  for  more  tender  love  toward  the  sick 
and  sorrowing,  — everything,  in  fact,  that  might 
bring  about,  "a  just  and  lasting  peace  among 
ourselves,  and  with  all  Nations." 

The  clouds  of  war  were  now  fast  scattering 
and  the  President  had  reason  to  be  happy. 
Through  his  love  and  patience  and  wisdom  the 
country  would  be  saved. 

"Take  better  care  of  yourself,"  his  friends  kept 
saying  to  him.  "The  times  are  full  of  danger. 
Bad  men  are  everywhere  about  us,  and  may  work 
you  harm  unless  you  are  protected." 

But  Lincoln  would  not  heed  them.  With  his 
great  kind  heart,  he  would  not  let  thoughts  of 
enemies  enter  his  mind. 

He  went  in  and  out  of  the  White  House  and 
through  the  streets  of  the  city  as  simply  as  a  com- 
mon workman  might  have  done.  Every  day  hun- 
dreds of  people  sought  him,  and  he  received  them 
freely,  whether  they  were  friends  or  strangers. 

"If  I  were  to  guard  against  all  danger,  I  should 
have  to  shut  myself  up  in  an  iron  box,"  he  said 
with  a  laugh.  "And  then  I  could  not  do  my  duty 
as  President." 

So,  though  his  friends  finally  insisted  on  having 
a  guard  to  watch  daily  about  the  White  House, 


50  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

and  a  squad  of  mounted  soldiers  to  follow  his 
carriage  whenever  he  went  out  to  drive,  he  was 
still  careless  about  protecting  himself  in  many 
ways. 

The  14th  of  April  was  at  hand.  It  was  Good 
Friday,  and  in  the  churches  that  day  there  were 
many  grateful  prayers  because  of  the  news  of 
coming  peace  which  had  reached  the  people. 
President  Lincoln  was  very  happy. 

In  the  morning  he  talked  with  the  men  in  his 
cabinet.  He  said  that  all  anger  must  be  put 
aside.  He  himself  would  take  no  part  in  hang- 
ing those  who  had  fought  against  the  Union,  for 
the  one  thought  now  should  be  peace. 

Robert  Lincoln  had  just  came  back  from  the 
war  and  his  father  was  able  to  spend  a  pleasant 
hour  talking  with  him  about  what  he  had  seen. 
Then  came  a  delightful  afternoon  when  the 
President  took  a  long  drive  with  his  wife.  He 
talked  of  the  quiet,  happy  life  they  would  have 
together  when  his  work  in  Washington  should 
be  over.  He  spoke,  too,  of  his  gratitude  to  the 
good  God  who  had  brought  such  blessings  to  the 
country. 

Never  had  he  seemed  more  full  of  love  towards 
all  men  than  he  did  that  Good  Friday  afternoon. 


THE  STORY  51 

Then  came  the  evening,  when  with  his  wife  and 
two  friends  the  President  went  to  the  theater. 
The  play  had  already  begun  when  they  entered 
the  box  but  the  band  immediately  began,  "Hail 
to  the  Chief,"  and  the  audience  stood  up  and 
cheered. 

After  that  the  play  went  on.  Lincoln,  cheer- 
ful and  happy,  sat  back  to  enjoy  it.  He  little 
dreamed  that  a  man,  a  noted  actor,  was  already 
drawing  near  to  carry  out  a  deadly  plot.  The 
heart  of  this  man  was  full  of  hatred  for  his  coun- 
try and  that  country's  chief.  His  mind  was  crazed 
by  liquor.  It  was  almost  ten  o'clock  when,  sud- 
denly, a  shot  was  heard  in  the  box  where  Lincoln 
was  sitting. 

A  cry  rang  out  through  the  theater,  "He  has 
shot  the  President,"  as  the  great  leader's  head 
fell  forward  and  his  eyes  closed.  Those  eyes 
would  never  look  again  upon  this  world,  and 
with  the  dawn  of  a  new  day,  the  last  breath  had 
been  drawn  by  the  greatest  of  all  Americans. 
His  work  had  been  done  and  his  country  saved. 

He  might  not  live  to  enjoy  with  his  people  the 
peace  which  he  had  prayed  for  so  earnestly.  He 
had  entered  forever  into  a  greater  peace  where 
war  and  hate  could  have  no  place.     Great  was 


UNIVERSITY  Of 

ILLINOIS  LIBRARY 


52  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

the  sorrow  in  the  land.  In  the  homes  of  rich 
and  poor,  the  white  man  and  the  black,  could  be 
heard  the  sobs  of  women  and  children.  Even 
strong  men  were  not  ashamed  to  weep. 

The  friend  of  all  creatures,  whom  God  had 
given  to  this  country  in  its  greatest  need,  had 
been  suddenly  taken  away.  The  booming  of  the 
cannons  and  the  tolling  of  bells  could  tell  but 
little  how  great  was  the  loss.  The  humble  rail- 
splitter,  the  youth  to  whom  a  dollar  had  once 
seemed  a  fortune,  had  climbed  alone,  step  by 
step,  from  the  lowland  of  poverty  and  ignor- 
ance to  the  very  summit  of  the  mountain  of  pro- 
gress.    He  had  become  a  savior  and  a  martyr. 


THE  PLAY 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

A   PLAY 

Lend  eye  and  ear,  my  children  dear; 

I,  History,  will  now  bring  near 

The  one  whose  wisdom,  great  and  true, 

Did  save  this  land  beloved  by  you. 

Here  now  the  backwoods  boy  behold, 

Unlettered,  rough,  but  for  truth  ever  bold. 

Scene  I 

Place,  — Interior  of  a  log  house  at  Pigeon 
Creek,  Indiana. 

Time,— About   1820. 

Abraham  Lincoln,  his  Stepmother,  and 
Matilda,  his  stepsister.  (Lincoln  is  stretched 
on  the  floor,  working  out  a  problem  on  a  big 
wooden  shovel  with  a  bit  of  charcoal.  At  the 
same  time  he  is  eating  his  breakfast  of  corncake. 
His  stepmother  and  sister  are  cleaning  off  the 
table.) 

Matilda,  — Mother,  did  you  hear  about  the 
spelling  match  at  the  school  house? 

Mother,— No,  did  the  children  do  well? 

Matilda,— Why,    you    see,    the    class    was 

SS 


56  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

poorer  than  usual  and  one  after  another  failed 
until  the  schoolmaster  began  to  get  angry.  You 
know  he  has  a  terrible  temper.  He  gave  out  the 
word,  defied.  My,  but  you  oughter  have  heard 
the  way  the  class  went  down  on  that!  The  first 
one  spelled  it,  d-e-f-y-e-d,  the  next  said,  d-e-f-i-d-e, 
and  so  on.  But  nobody  hit  it  right.  "Next, 
next,"  the  schoolmaster  kept  saying  and  he  was 
gittin'  madder  and  madder  every  minute.  At 
last  he  began  to  jump  up  and  down  while  he 
shouted,  "The  school  shall  not  be  dismissed  till 
that  word  is  spelled  right." 

After  that  he  sorter  caught  his  breath  and 
called  on  Kate  Roby.  She's  an  awful  pretty 
girl,  you  know,  and  I  guess  Abe  likes  her  power- 
ful well.  My,  but  she  was  scared  though!  Sh 
didn't  know  any  better  than  the  rest  of  us.  She 
began,  d-e-f-,  and  everybody  knew  by  the  shape 
of  her  mouth  she  was  going  to  say  y. 

Just  then  she  happened  to  look  at  Abe.  He 
was  standing  opposite  her  in  the  line,  and  he 
was  grinning.  Quick  as  a  wink  he  lifted  his 
hand  up  and  pointed  to  his  eye.  Of  course  Kate 
guessed  what  he  wanted  to  tell  her.  She  went 
on,  and  finished  without  any  trouble.  I  reckon 
she's  thankful  to  Abe  for  gettin'  her  out  of  her 


A  PLAY  57 

trouble.     And  the  class,  too,  for  that  matter! 

Mother  (smiling),— That  is  just  like  Abe, 
always  ready  to  help  someone  that  is  in  trouble. 
(Turning  now  to  Abe,  who  has  been  so  busy  that 
he  didn't  hear  the  conversation.)     Abe! 

Abe  (starting  at  hearing  his  name  called),— 
What  is  it,  mother? 

Mother,— Abe,  come,  come,  take  your  axe 
and  start  for  the  woodland. 

Abe  (laying  down  his  charcoal  and  swallow- 
the  last  bit  of  corn-cake),— Yes,  mother. 
(He  jumps  up,  takes  down  the  ax  which  hangs 
against  the  side  of  the  wall,  and  with  long  strides 
leaves  the  hut  and  goes  down  the  path  towards 
the  woods.) 

Matilda,— I'm  going  with  Abe,  mother.  I 
like  to  watch  him  cut  down  the  trees. 

Mother,— No,  you  can't  go  to-day.  You 
must  help  me.  Now  don't  pout,  my  child.  Those 
beans  should  be  picked.  I  have  a  hundred 
things  to  do  myself.  After  the  housework  is 
finished,  I  must  sew  for  the  children. 

Matilda  (scowling,  takes  a  pail  and  goes 
out  of  the  hut,  talking  to  herself),— I  don't 
care.  I'm  going  with  Abe,  anyway.  If  I  hurry, 
I  can  catch  up  with  him  yet.     (Matilda  runs  and 


5 8  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

catches  up  with  Abe,  who  is  whistling  as  he 
strides  along.  She  makes  a  sudden  spring,  and 
lands  on  her  brother's  shoulders.  Pressing  her 
knees  against  his  back  she  pulls  him  down  upon 
the  ground.  His  ax  falls  and  makes  a  sharp  cut 
in  her  knee.) 

Matilda   (screaming), — Oh,  Oh,  Oh! 

Abe,— Sh!  there!  there!  don't  be  scared.  I'll 
have  it  all  right  in  a  minute.  (He  tears  off  a 
strip  of  cloth  from  his  ragged  shirt  sleeve,  and 
binds  it  about  the  girl's  knee.) 

Matilda  (still  crying),— Oh,  Oh,  Oh! 

Abe,— 'Tilda,  how  could  you?  I  am  aston- 
ished. To  think  that  you  should  disobey  your 
mother. 

Matilda  (rocking  herself  to  and  fro),— Oh, 
Oh,  Oh ! 

Abe  (sternly  now),— What  will  you  tell 
mother?  How  will  you  explain  about  getting 
hurt? 

Matilda,— I'll  tell  her  that  I  did  it  with  the 
ax.     Isn't  that  the  truth? 

Abe,— Yes,  Tilda,  it  is  the  truth,  but  it  isn't 
the  whole  truth.  Be  a  brave  girl  when  you  go 
home.  Tell  your  mother  the  whole  truth,  and 
leave  the  rest  to  her. 


A  PLAY  59 

Matilda  (looking  up  into  her  brother's  kind 
but  firm  face),— Yes,  Abe,  I  reckon  you  arc 
right.     I'll  do  what  you  say.     (She  limps  away). 

Abe  (talking  to  himself),  — Poor  Tilda!  it  is 
hard  to  be  brave,  even  in  little  things.  (He 
sighs.)  I  must  be  brave,  too,  but  in  a  different 
way.  I  long  for  book-learning,  and  to  know  the 
great  world  far  away  from  this  rough  home  of 
ours,  but  I  must  plod  on  day  after  day  and  keep 
cheerful  for  mother's  sake.  I  will  be  a  great 
man  yet,  though,  unlikely  as  it  seems.  I  feel  it. 
Yes,  I  know  it. 

Now  older  grown  our  hero  see, 
A  kind  and  tender  heart  has  he. 
E'en  though  his  life  is  far  from  bright 
Yet  strong  his  will  is  towards  the  right, 
While  deep  within  is  purpose  strong 
To  rise  to  greatness  and  belong 
Among  the  few,  whose  deeds  shall  bring 
The  whole  wide  world  to  wondering. 

Scene  Two 

Time,— About  1829. 

Place,  — Grocery  store  in  Gentryville,  a  town 
near    Lincoln's    home.       (A    crowd    of    farmers 


6o  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

about  the  door.) 

First   Farmer,— Went  huntin'   yesterday. 

Second  Farmer,— What  d'ye  get? 

First  Farmer,— Two  good  fat  deer  and  a 
turkey.  The  turkey  was  a  buster,  I  tell  ye.  My 
woman  got  him  on  the  spit  bright  and  early  this 
morning. 

Second  Farmer,— Where  d'ye  go?  Down  in 
that  stretch  of  woods  to  the  south? 

First  Farmer,— Yes,  that's  the  best  huntin' 
place  in  these  parts  now.  Plenty  of  panthers 
there,  too !  A  panther  could  have  jumped  down 
on  me  any  minute,  for  it  was  so  dark  that  I 
couldn't  see  my  hand  in  front  of  my  face.  I 
was  late  gettin'  home,  and  the  screams  of  the 
critters  sent  the  shivers  running  down  my  back. 

Second  Farmer  (half  to  himself),  — It's 
queer  that  Abe  Linkern  never  goes  huntin'.  He'd 
be  a  good  one  at  it,  too  1  A  surer  hand  I  never 
knew. 

Third  Farmer,— Did  ye  ever  hear  that  story 
about  him  when  he  was  a  little  feller? 

(The  men  gather  round  and  speak  together.) 

No,  what  is  it? 

Third  Farmer,— Why,  ye  see,  it  was  this 
way.    He  was  in  the  cabin  and  happened  to  look 


A  PLAY  6 1 

out  just  as  a  flock  of  turkeys  was  comin'  into 
sight.  Quick  as  a  flash  he  run  to  the  wall  and 
took  down  his  father's  rifle.  Then  he  run  over 
to  a  big  crack  in  the  logs.  Steady  now!  He 
took  good  aim.  Crack  goes  the  rifle,  and  down 
falls  the  best  bird  in  the  whole  flock.  Ye'd  a 
thought  that  with  such  a  beginning  he'd  a  took  to 
huntin'  with  a  zest. 

Fourth  Farmer,— No,  no,  he's  too  soft- 
hearted. Can't  bear  to  make  even  a  dumb  crit- 
ter suffer.  He'll  wrastle  with  the  best  of  us, 
and  beat  us  every  time  when  it  comes  to  splittin' 
rails  or  cuttin'  logs.  But  huntin'  don't  seem  to 
be  in  his  dictionary. 

First  Farmer,— I  saw  him  do  a  stunt  this 
very  mornin'.  Three  of  us  was  gettin'  ready  to 
move  a  chicken  house.  We  was  all  takin'  long 
breaths  before  the  start,  for  it  weighed  three  hun- 
dred or  more.  'Long  comes  Abe  just  about  that 
time,  "What  are  ye  waiting  fer?"  says  he. 
"Waiting  fer?"  says  I.  "We're  only  gettin' 
ready."  At  that  he  give  a  long  chuckle  down 
in  his  throat,  stepped  over  to  the  chicken  house, 
lifted  it  like  it  was  a  feather,  and  walked  off  with 
it.     He's  a  tough  one,  I  tell  ye. 

The  Crowd,— Ha,  ha,  ha!    Good  for  Abe! 


62  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

Third  Farmer,— That's  no  better  than  I  see 
him  do  last  week.  My  neighbor  an'  I  had  some 
posts  to  move.  They  was  so  big,  we  couldn't 
budge  'em.  "Fetch  some  sticks,"  says  I,  "and 
call  those  men  over  in  that  field  to  come  and 
help  us."  Then  along  comes  Abe.  "What's 
the  matter,  boys?"  says  he,  laughing  like.  "Show 
me  where  you  want  them  posts."  I  pointed  out 
the  places.  With  that,  he  lifts  one  of  the  logs 
up  on  to  his  shoulder,  easy  like,  and  walks  off 
with  it.  An'  he  kep'  on  till  the  last  one  was 
moved. 

(John  Baldwin,  the  blacksmith,  enters  the 
store.) 

Baldwin,  — Did  you  hear  about  Abe  and  that 
drunken   feller  the   other  night? 

First  Farmer,— Yes,  Dave  told  me. 

The  Rest,— No,  tell  us. 

Baldwin,— Why,  Dave  and  Abe  had  been 
threshin'  wheat  all  day,  and  in  the  evening  they 
stopped  here  on  their  way  home.  They  stayed 
till  it  was  pretty  late.  Then  they  started  off 
down  through  that  lonely  stretch  of  country. 
They  had  gone  quite  a  spell,  when  Abe  says,  sud- 
den like,  "What's  that?"  and  he  pointed  to  a 
heap  lyin'  side  of  a  mud  puddle. 


A  PLAY  63 

The  two  went  up  and  found  that  it  was  a  man 
they  both  knew,  — a  good  fellow,  too,  but  some- 
how or  other,  he'd  been  and  got  drunk.  There 
he  lay  still  as  death,— didn't  know  it  even  when 
they  rolled  him  over.  uHe  can't  stay  here,"  sez 
Abe.  "The  night's  too  cold,  and  he  might 
freeze  before  morning." 

"Let  him  lay  in  the  bed  that  he's  made  for 
himself,"  sez  the  other,  "I'm  going  home." 

But  Abe  wouldn't  hear  to  it.  Leave  a  help- 
less man  there  to  freeze  to  death!  That  warn't 
in  Abe's  makeup.  Without  saying  anythin' 
more,  he  bent  over  and  lifted  the  man  up  with 
them  long  arms  of  his,  and  started  off  with  him. 
He  didn't  drop  him,  either,  till  he  reached  Den- 
nis Hanks'  cabin.  Then  he  built  a  fire,  and  set 
to  work  rubbin'  and  warmin'  the  man  up.  It 
was  mornin'  before  he  dared  to  leave  him  alone. 
I'm  proud  to  call  Abe  Linkern  a  friend  of  mine. 

The  Crowd,— Three  cheers  for  honest  Abe! 
Hurrah!  Hurrah!  Hurrah! 

First  Farmer,— How  the  women  folks  do 
like  the  rail  splitter!  They  say  he's  the  handi- 
est man  they  ever  see.  Alius  ready  to  help, 
from  bringing  in  a  pile  of  wood  to  rockin'  a  baby. 
An'  then  he's  so  honest!     He  wouldn't  cheat  a 


64  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

chicken  out  of  a  pin  feather. 

Second  Farmer,— I  reckon  they  like  him  all 
the  better  because  he  never  touches  strong  drink. 
Ye  can't  get  him  to.  Tain't  cause  he  ain't  got 
spirit,  neither.  He  just  won't  and  that's  all  there 
is  to  it. 

Third  Farmer,— He's  got  some  queer  no- 
tions, Abe  has.  He  says  that  he  is  goin'  to  be 
President  of  these  here  U-nited  States.  Solemn 
as  an  owl  about  it,  too ! 

Fourth  Farmer,— They  might  go  better  and 
fare  worse.  Abe's  got  a  powerful  long  head 
on  them  young  shoulders. 

The  Crowd,— Thet  he  has. 

First  Farmer,— There  he  comes  now  (call- 
ing to  him.)  Hurry  up,  Abe,  we  want  one  of 
your  stories  to  warm  us  up  this  cold  night. 

(One  after  another,  as  Abe  appears.)  Evenin\ 
Abe. 

First  Farmer,— Heerd  you  was  playing 
speaker  down  in  Crawford's  field  the  other  day, 
Abe.  They  say  as  how  everybody  stopped  and 
gathered  round  to  hear  you  take  off  the  law 
argiments  that  ye  heerd  down  to  the  county  seat. 
Then  old  Crawford  came  out  and  sent  the  work- 
men about  their  business. 


A  PLAY  65 

The  Crowd,— Ha,  Ha,  Ha! 

(Lincoln  rolls  his  eyes  and  makes  up  a  face.) 

Second  Farmer,— Let's  have  thet  song  o' 
yours  about  Crawford's  blue  nose.  An'  don't 
leave  out  a  single  pimple  on  the  ugly  old  stub. 

The  Crowd,— Ha,  Ha,  Ha! 

Abe  (smiling),  —  I  reckon  Crawford  would 
give  me  his  life  of  Washington  if  he  could  change 
that  nose.  It  was  a  bad  thing  for  him  when 
he  made  me  work  three  days  for  him  to  pay  for 
that  book  I  had  borrowed.  To  be  sure  it  was 
hurt  a  good  deal  in  the  rain  that  beat  in  through 
the  rafters  by  my  bed,  but  I  meant  to  be  careful 
of   it. 

Baldwin,— But  a  song!  not  the  one  about 
Crawford,— you've  sung  that  enough;  let's  have 
the  one  about  Jackson.  We're  all  Jackson  men 
here  to-night. 

(Lincoln  sings  in  a  queer  cracked  voice.) 

"Let  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot 
And  never  brought  to  mind 
And  Jackson  be  our  President 
And  Adams  left  behind." 

Second  Farmer,— Let's  have  "Poor  Old 
Ned,"  Abe.    You  can  do  that  better.     (Laughter 


66  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

again,  for  everyone  knows  that  Abe  cannot  keep 
to  a  tune.) 
Abe,— 

"There  was  an  old  darky 
And  his  name  was  Ned— 

(Captain  Larkin,  a  little  fat  man,  and  a  great 
boaster,  enters  the  store.) 

Larkins  (in  a  blustering  voice) ,— Fellers, 
I've  got  the  fastest  and  best  horse  in  this  here 
town. 

The  men  laugh. 

Larkins,— I  tell  ye,  I  have  the  best  and  fast- 
est horse  in  this  here  town.  (He  sees  Lincoln 
winking  at  his  friends.  He  steps  up  in  front  of 
him  and  shouts  in  a  loud  voice)  : 

I  have  the  best  horse  in  this  country.  I  ran 
him  three  miles  in  nine  minutes,  and  he  never 
drew  a  long  breath. 

Abe  (looking  at  him),— Well,  Larkins,  why 
don't  you  tell  us  how  many  short  breaths  he 
drew? 

The  crowd  laughs. 

Larkins  (doubling  up  his  fists  and  jumping 
around),— I'd  fight  you,  Abe  Lincoln,  if  you 
wasn't   so    all-fired   big. 


A  PLAY  67 

Abe  (very  quietly) ,  — Now,  Larkins,  if  you 
don't  keep  still,  I'll  throw  you  into  that  water. 

(Larkins  gets  red  in  the  face  and  slinks  out 
of  the  store.) 

Abe  turns  to  one  of  his  friends  and  speaks  in 
a  low  voice.  I'm  going  to  cut  work  and  go  over  to 
the  county  seat  again  to-morrow,  for  court  is  going 
on  there.  I'm  bound  to  be  a  lawyer,  Ben,  and  a 
great  one.  After  that,  who  knows  what  will 
happen? 

(His  friend  smiles.) 

Lincoln,— It  seems  funny,  does  it?  Abe 
Lincoln,  the  rail  splitter,  one  of  the  big  men  of 
this  country!     Well,  watch  and  see,  old  man. 

(He  taps  his  friend  on  the  shoulder  and  goes 
out.) 

Years  have  passed  by;  the  backwoods  boy 
Has  grown  to  manhood,  now,  forsooth, 
No  longer  poor,  with  fame  unearned, 
But  Lincoln  the  lawyer,  great  and  learned, 
Wise  in  his  craft,  given  honor  and  praise, 
Yet  never  forgetting  the  friends  of  old  days. 

Scene  Three 
Time,— 1858. 
Place,— A  court  room  in  Beardstown,  Illinois. 


68  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

Judge,  jury,  Lawyer  Lincoln,  William  Arm- 
strong, accused  of  murder,  witnesses,  crowd  of 
on-lookers. 

Crowd  (excitedly  talking  together),— Guilty! 
Guilty !     Guilty ! 

Man  in  the  Crowd,— Look  at  Armstrong's 
face.  He  turns  away  his  eyes.  Of  course  he  is 
guilty. 

Second  Man,  — But  as  one  of  the  witnesses 
shows,  Metzger  might  have  been  hit  by  the  yoke 
on  his  oxen.  That  is,  if  he  got  in  the  way  and 
stumbled. 

Crowd  (laughing),— Ha,  ha,  ha!  But  the 
last  witness !     Of  course  he  is  guilty. 

Judge,— Order!  Will  the  court  please  come 
to  order?  William  Armstrong,  you  may  speak 
in  your  own  defense. 

Armstrong  (speaking  to  the  judge),  — I  am 
charged  with  a  terrible  deed.  I  am  innocent, 
sir,  indeed  I  am.  It  is  true  that  I  struck  Metz- 
ger in  anger.  I  struck  him  with  my  fist.  But 
the  blow  was  not  a  hard  one.  It  did  not  harm. 
I  am  sure  of  it. 

Crowd   (jeering),— Guilty!    Guilty!    Guilty! 

Judge,— Let  the  last  witness  speak. 

Witness,— I    saw    Armstrong    and    Metzger 


A  PLAY  69 

when  they  were  quarrelling  together  that  last 
night.  Armstrong  pounded  Metzger  in  the  face 
with  a  sling  shot  which  he  had  prepared  with 
great  care.     That  settled  Metzger. 

Lincoln,— At  what  time  did  this  happen? 

Witness,— About  eleven  o'clock  at  night. 

Lincoln,— How  could  you  see  so  clearly  at 
that  time  of  night? 

Witness  (promptly),  — By  the  light  of  the 
moon. 

Lincoln,— Was  there  light  enough  to  see 
everything  that  happened? 

Witness,— The  moon  was  about  in  the  same 
place  as  the  sun  would  be  at  ten  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  nearly  full. 

Lincoln  (turning  to  an  officer  of  the  court), 
—Bring  me  an  almanac. 

Officer  (coming  forward  and  placing  an  al- 
manac in  Lincoln's  hand),— Here  it  is,  sir. 

Lincoln  (opening  the  almanac  and  speaking 
very  slowly) ,— This  almanac  shows  that  at  the 
time  you  speak,  the  moon  was  not  shining.  There 
was  utter  darkness.  What  you  have  said,  then, 
cannot  be  true. 

Crowd  (excitedly),  —  Innocent!  Innocent! 
poor  boy!     Of  course  he's  innocent. 


7o  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

Lincoln,— Gentlemen    of   the    jury,    I    came 
here  to-day  to  defend  this  young  man,  William 
Armstrong,   not  for  pay,   but  because  I   owe   a 
great  debt  to  his  parents.     They  were  kind  to 
me  when  I  was  poor,  and  had  but  few  friends. 
The  father  of  this  boy  who  has  been  unjustly  ac- 
cused, has  gone  to  his  long  rest.     His  mother, 
now  a  weak,  gray-haired  old  woman,  is  broken 
down  with  sorrow.     But,  years  ago,  when  young 
and  happy,  these  two  welcomed  me  to  their  hum- 
ble log  cabin.     They  were  poor,  but  they  gladly 
shared  what   they  had  with   the   homeless   boy 
who  came  to  their  door.     They  were  father  and 
mother  to  me.     Now  it  is  my  privilege  to  plead 
for  the  life  of  their  own  son,  whom  I  once  rocked 
in  his  cradle  while  his  gentle  mother  mended  my 
ragged  clothing. 

Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  think  of  this  poor  boy's 
mother.  Think  also  how  young  he  is,  and  how 
unjustly  he  has  been  accused.  Decide  this  case 
as  you  think  it  right  and  just,  bearing  in  mind, 
that  by  this  almanac,  the  words  of  the  last  wit- 
ness are  proved  to  be  untrue. 

(The  jury  wipe  tears  from  their  eyes.  Sobs 
are  heard  in  the  crowd.) 

Judge    (turning    to    the    jury),— Gentlemen, 


A  PLAY  71 

you  have  heard  the  case.  We  wait  for  your  de- 
cision. 

(The  jury  go  out  of  the  room,  but  return  very 
shortly.) 

Judge  (speaking  to  the  jury),— Gentlemen  of 
the  jury,  what  is  your  decision? 

Foreman  of  the  Jury  (handing  paper  to  the 
judge),  — Guilty,  or  not  guilty? 

Judge  (reading  the  paper),— Not  guilty!  Re- 
lease the  prisoner  at  the  bar. 

(The  crowd  rises.  Talking  together  and 
laughing,   they  leave  the   court-room.) 

Hannah  Armstrong,  the  boy's  mother,  enters 
by  another  door,  shaking  with  excitement,  and 
rushes  towards  Lincoln,  after  the  jury  have  all 
shaken  hands  with  her. 

Lincoln  (tears  running  down  his  cheeks),— 
Hannah,  what  did  I  tell  you?  The  boy  is  as 
free  as  I  said  that  he  should  be,  and  I  pray  to 
God  that  he  may  be  a  good  boy  hereafter,  and 
that  this  may  prove  in  the  end  to  be  a  good  les- 
son to  him  and  to  others. 

Hannah,  — May  God  reward  you  as  you  de- 
serve, Mr.  Lincoln.  You  have  a  great  heart,  as 
well  as  a  wise  head.  May  you  live  to  do  great 
deeds  for  your  country. 


72  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

War,  fierce  and  bitter,  sweeps  our  land, 
Death  and  disaster's  on  every  hand, 
But  Lincoln,  now  our  President, 
Shows  wisdom  great  and  calm  judgment, 
While  even  now,  though  cares  of  state 
Bow  down  his  mind  with  heavy  weight, 
His  heart  with  pitying  love  takes  heed 
Of  everyone  who  is  in  need. 

Scene  Four 

Time,— i 86 i,  during  the  great  Civil  War. 

Place,— Guard  house  at  Chain  Bridge  Camp, 
near  Washington,  D.  C. 

William  Scott,  a  "Green  Mountain"  boy,  who 
has  been  sentenced  to  die  the  next  morning  for 
going  to  sleep  while  on  duty. 

(The  boy  looks  very  sad.  His  head  is  bent 
over  as  he  sits  thinking.  A  medal,  with  Lincoln's 
face  engraved  on  it,  hangs  from  his  neck.) 

He  looks  down  at  it  and  speaks  softly  to  him- 
self,—He  was  once  a  poor  country  boy  like  me, 
with  work  so  hard  that  it  would  have  broken  the 
spirit  of  any  other  fellow.  But  he  was  always 
brave,  always  kind  and  thoughtful.  And  with 
it  all,  they  say  he  had  one  thought.     He  was  to 


A  PLAY  73 

be  a  great  man  some  day.  He  never  lost  sight 
of  that.  And  now  he  is  a  great  man,  but  it  has 
not  made  him  proud.  How  sad  his  face  is!  It  is 
as  though  he  were  always  thinking  of  the  suf- 
fering he  longs  to  help. 

(Lincoln  enters  and  walks  up  to  his  side.) 

Lincoln  (gently),  — My  dear  boy,  I  have 
come  to  see  you.  I  hear  that  you  are  one  of  our 
Green   Mountain  boys. 

Scott  (in  a  frightened  whisper),— Yes,  sir. 

Lincoln,— Tell  me  about  your  home,  my  boy; 
are  you  a  farmer's  son? 

Scott,— Yes,  sir. 

Lincoln,— And  how  did  you  spend  your  days 
in  your  Green  Mountain  home? 

Scott,— When  I  wasn't  at  school,  I  helped 
my  father  on  the  farm.  I  was  up  with  the  sun 
in  the  morning,  and  was  busy  until  it  set.  Then 
supper,  and  off  to  bed,  for  I  would  be  so  tired 
and  sleepy  that  I  couldn't  keep  awake  another 
minute. 

Lincoln,— Have  you  a  mother,  my  boy? 

Scott,— Yes,  sir;  and  I  love  her  very  dearly. 
Here  is  her  picture. 

(The  boy's  voice  chokes  as  he  takes  a  pic- 
ture out  of  his  bosom  and  shows  it  to  Lincoln.) 


74  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

Lincoln  (looking  at  the  picture  and  speaking 
very  softly),— How  glad  you  must  be  that  your 
mother  is  still  living!  If  I  were  in  your  place,  I 
would  try  to  make  your  mother  proud  of  you. 
Never  give  her  cause  to  be  sorrowful,  my  dear 
boy.  Never  let  her  shed  one  tear  on  your  ac- 
count. 

Scott  (aside),— Why  does  the  President 
speak  in  this  way  to  me,  when  he  must  know  that 
I  am  to  die  to-morrow?  Ah!  It  is  because  he  is 
so  kind.  (Looking  up  into  the  President's  face.) 
Sir,  I  do  not  feel  guilty.  I  did  my  best.  Truly 
I  did.  It  happened  this  way.  One  of  my  mates 
was  on  picket  duty  for  the  night.  But  he  was  so 
ill  that  he  was  not  fit  for  it.  "I  will  take  your 
place,"  I  told  him.  It  was  hard  work,  for  I  was 
not  used  to  it,  keeping  awake  all  night.  You  see, 
mother  didn't  want  me  to  go  into  the  war,  any- 
way. She  said  I  was  too  young.  But,  sir,  I  did 
my  duty  on  guard  that  night  and  did  not  close  my 
eyes  once. 

Lincoln  (tenderly),— Then  what  happened, 
my  boy? 

Scott,— The  very  next  day,  I  was  ordered  on 
guard  for  the  night.  I  tried  my  best,  sir,  indeed 
I  did.     But  I  couldn't  keep  awake,  and  went  to 


A  PLAY  75 

sleep  while  I  was  walking  back  and  forth.  The 
other  guard  found  me  asleep  at  my  post,  and  you 
know  the  rest.  (The  boy  hesitates,  and  then 
goes  on.)  I  want  to  ask  you  a  favor,  sir.  Can 
you  fix  it  up  so  that  the  firing  party  who  are  to 
shoot  me  to-morrow  morning  shall  be  picked 
from  another  regiment?  It  would  be  very  hard 
to  die  at  the  hand  of  one's  own  comrades. 

Lincoln,  — My  boy,  stand  up  and  look  me  in 
the  face. 

(Scott  does  so.) 

Lincoln,— My  boy,  you  are  not  going  to  be 
shot  to-morrow  morning.  I  believe  you  when 
you  say  that  you  could  not  keep  awake.  I  am 
going  to  trust  you  and  send  you  back  to  your 
regiment.  But  I  have  been  put  to  a  great  deal 
of  trouble  on  your  account.  I  have  had  to  come 
up  here  from  Washington  when  I  have  a  great 
deal  to  do;  what  I  want  to  know  is,  how  are 
you  going  to  pay  my  bill? 

Scott  (with  a  choking  voice),— I— I— I  am 
grateful,  Mr.  Lincoln.  I  hope  that  I  am  as 
grateful  to  you  as  a  man  should  be  for  saving  my 
life.  But  it  comes  upon  me  sudden.  I  didn't  lay 
out  for  it  at  all.  There  must  be  some  way  to 
pay  you,   and   I  will  find  it  out  after  a  while. 


76  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

There  is  the  bounty  in  the  savings  bank.  Then, 
too,  I  guess  I  could  borrow  some  money  on  the 
mortgage  of  the  farm.  There  is  my  pay,  and  I 
am  sure  that  if  you  can  wait  till  pay-day  the  boys 
will  help  me  out.  We  could  do  it  if  it  isn't  more 
than  five  or  six  hundred  dollars. 

Lincoln,— But  it  is  a  great  deal  more  than 
that,  my  boy. 

Scott,— Then  I  don't  see  now  how  it  can  be 
done,  sir,  but  I  am  sure  that  I  can  find  a  way  if  I 
live. 

Lincoln  (putting  his  hands  on  Scott's  shoul- 
ders and  speaking  sorrowfully),— My  boy,  my 
bill  is  a  very  large  one.  Your  friends  cannot  pay 
it,  nor  your  bounty,  nor  the  farm,  nor  your  com- 
rades. Only  one  man  in  all  the  world  can  pay 
it,  and  his  name  is  William  Scott.  If  from  this 
day,  William  Scott  does  his  duty,  so  that,  if  I 
were  there  when  he  comes  to  die,  he  could  look 
me  in  the  face  as  he  does  now,  and  say,  "I  have 
kept  my  promise,  and  I  have  done  my  duty  as  a 
soldier,"  then  my  debt  will  be  paid.  Will  you 
make  that  promise  and  try  to  keep  it? 

Scott,— I  will  make  that  promise,  and  with 
God's  help  I  will  keep  it. 

Lincoln    (solemnly),— May  God  bless  you. 


A  PLAY  77 

I  believe  that,  with  his  help,  you  will  do  your 
duty.  I  shall  not  forget  you,  my  boy.  Good- 
bye. 

Still  raging  is  the  cruel  war, 
Thousands  are  slain,  from  near  and  far 
Comes  news  of  battle,  and  the  air 
With  grief  is  fraught,  and  heavy  care. 
Our  President  with  sorrow's  bowed, 
While  still  his  hope  and  faith  speak  loud: 
Victory  will  come,  the  storm  pass  by, 
Light  will  appear,  for  God  is  nigh. 

Scene  Five 

Time,— 1863,  during  the  great  Civil  War. 

Scene,— War  office  in  Washington. 

(Two  telegraph  operators  sitting  by  their  in- 
struments, papers  beside  them.) 

Officer  (entering  hurriedly),— Any  news? 

First  Operator,— Yes.  (Hands  him  a  tele- 
gram). 

Officer  (reading),  —  Battle  still  raging 
around  Gettysburg.  Great  loss  of  life  on  both 
sides.      Confederates  pressing  on. 

(Half  to  himself),— Please  God  that  things 
take  a  turn  in  our  favor.  They  have  looked 
black  enough  for  us  lately. 


7 8  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

(Second  officer  entering),— I  hope  that  there 
is  good  news  this  morning.  Old  Abe  has  been 
feeling  terribly  discouraged,  though  he  is  still 
ever  ready  with  his  jokes.  We  must  have  a 
victory,  or  the  country  will  be  lost.  What's  this? 
(Reads  telegram  that  first  officer  has  handed 
him.)  This  can't  be  all.  There  must  have  been 
more  fighting  to-day.  See  (points  to  a  map  on 
the  table),  we  have  just  learned  from  a  prisoner 
caught  this  morning  that  Lee  is  pushing  ahead 
only  a  part  of  his  army.  He  has  no  idea  of  the 
number  of  our  men  behind  these  hills.  May  God 
grant  that  General  Mead  will  use  his  chance. 

First  Officer,— Old  Abe  is  counting  so  much 
on  him. 

First  Operator  (who  has  been  busy  tele- 
graphing, jumps  up  and  cries),— Lines  cut  again, 
sir. 

First  Officer,— But  the  lines  are  guarded. 

Operator,— Not  in  Washington,  sir.  I  was 
just  sending  a  message  to  Secretary  Seward,  and 
the  lines  have  been  cut  not  four  blocks  away. 

Second  Officer  (rings  a  bell  and  a  sergeant 
appears),  turning  to  him,— Send  men  to  find  the 
cut  in  the  line  to  Seward's  office.    Quick! 

Sergeant,— Yes,  sir.     (Goes  out.) 


A  PLAY  79 

Second  Officer  (in  a  low  voice  to  first  offi- 
cer),—There  are  traitors  right  here  in  the  city. 
The  President  must  be  guarded,  but  he  must  not 
know  of  the  danger.     Sh-h. 

(President  Lincoln,  entering),— Good  morn- 
ing, gentlemen. 

(Officers  salute  him.) 

Lincoln  walks  over  to  the  table  and  picking 
up  the  first  of  the  telegrams,  smiles.  Listen  to 
this,  gentlemen.  (Reads  aloud).  Massa  Lin- 
coln, my  boy,  Jim,  done  run  away  to  fight  in  this 
cruel  war.     Please  send  him  home.     Aunt  Chloe. 

Officers  laugh. 

Lincoln,  talking  on,  as  he  glances  at  one 
telegram  after  another,  — I  have  just  come  from 
a  lively  talk  with  one  of  my  advisers.  (Laughs 
and  looks  keenly  from  one  officer  to  the  other.) 

First  Officer,— Yes? 

Lincoln,— You  see,  he  blames  me  for  being 
too  soft-hearted.  Too  many  pardons,  he  de- 
clares. The  soldiers  aren't  held  up  to  their 
duty.  If  they  get  scared  and  run  from  danger, 
they  think  that  a  word  from  me  will  save  them. 
Well,  my  good  friend  had  worked  himself  into 
a  rage  when  he  came  to  me,  but  bless  you,  he  went 
away  smiling. 


80  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

First  Officer,— How  did  you  bring  it  about? 

Lincoln  (with  a  drawl  in  his  voice  and  a 
twinkle  in  his  eye),— Perhaps  you  never  heard 
of  the  farmer  who  was  troubled  by  a  big  log  in 
the  middle  of  his  field? 

(The  officers  shake  their  heads.) 

Lincoln,— Well,  one  day  the  old  fellow  told 
his  neighbor  that  he  had  got  rid  of  it.  "But 
how  did  you  do  it?"  asked  the  man.  "It  was 
too  knotty  to  split,  too  wet  and  soggy  to  burn." 
"Now,  I'll  tell  ye,"  said  the  farmer,  "if  you  will 
promise  to  keep  it  a  secret."  (The  man  prom- 
ised.) Then  the  farmer  said  very  solemnly,  "I 
ploughed  around  it." 

Now  that  is  just  what  I  did,  gentlemen.  I 
ploughed  around  my  good  friend,  but  it  took  me 
two  hours  of  good  hard  work. 

Officers  laugh,  and  Lincoln  goes  on  reading 
the  telegrams.  Suddenly  he  looks  up  and  be- 
gins to  speak  again.  — Gentlemen,  it  has  been 
looking  pretty  black  lately,   hasn't  it? 

(Officers  bow.) 

But  I  have  a  great  hope.  We  shall  hear  good 
news  shortly.  I  am  sure  of  it.  I  had  the  same 
dream  last  night  that  has  come  to  me  before 
when  great  things  were  to  happen.     It  was  this 


A  PLAY  8 i 

(he  speaks  almost  in  a  whisper)  :  I  was  in  a 
strange  ship  that  I  cannot  describe,  and  I  was 
moving  fast,  very  fast,  towards  a  dark  shore 
beyond.  (Lincoln  sighs,  and  then  goes  on.) 
That  was  all,— but,  gentlemen,  it  means  good 
news,  great  news. 

First  Operator  (excitedly  holding  out  a  tele- 
gram he  has  just  been  taking  down),  — Mr.  Pres- 
ident, read  this,  please. 

Lincoln  (reads  aloud),— Gettysburg,  Presi- 
dent Abraham  Lincoln,  A  three  days'  fight  is 
over.  Great  loss  of  life,  but  victory  is  with  us. 
Enemy  in  full  flight.     Scout  A. 

Lincoln,— Praise  to  the  good  God.  (He 
buries  his  face  in  his  hands.) 

The  sky  at  last  begins  to  clear, 

No  longer  is  great  cause  to  fear 

That  North  and  South  divided  be. 

Our  President  the  end  can  see 

Of  cruel  war;  his  hope  is  high, 

His   heart  grows   merry;   though   death   be   nigh 

He  knows  it  not.     Then,  suddenly, 

He  meets  his  end  most  cruelly. 

Scene  Six 

Time,  Ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  April  14, 
1865. 


82  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

Scene,— A  street  in  Washington. 

Two  officers  walking  together. 

First  Officer,— How  much  we  have  to  be 
thankful  for!  The  end  of  the  war  is  in  sight. 
We  can  draw  a  long  breath  at  last. 

Second  Officer,— Yes,  and  we  may  bless 
God  for  the  one  who  has  brought  us  safely 
through  such  terrible  dangers.  No  other  than 
Old  Abe  would  have  been  wise  enough  to  do  it. 
He  was  sent  to  us  in  our  great  need. 

First  Officer,— I  believe  it.  They  say  that 
even  when  he  was  a  backwoods  boy,  he  talked 
of  being  President  some  day.  He  was  deter- 
mined to  be  a  great  man.  But  when  he  became 
great,  did  it  make  him  proud?  No,  it  made  him 
eager  to  use  his  power  in  helping  others.  Such 
a  big,  tender  heart  I  never  knew. 

Second  Officer,  — I  heard  that  he  seemed 
unusually  happy  to-day,— went  driving  with  his 
wife  in  the  afternoon,  and  this  evening  is  at  the 
theatre  with  her  and  a  party  of  friends. 

First  Officer,— Perhaps  his  dream  had 
something  to  do  with  it.  Do  you  remember  the 
day  we  heard  of  the  success  at  Gettysburg,  and 
his  telling  us  of  the  dream  he  had  the  night  be- 
fore?    I  heard  that  he  had  the  same  one  last 


A  PLAY  83 

night,  and  that  he  said  it  meant  more  good  news. 
No  doubt  he  was  thinking  of  the  end  of  the  war. 

Second  Officer,  — I  hope  with  all  my  heart 
that  the  dream  comes  true,  and  that  President 
Lincoln  will  live  long  to  enjoy  the  peace  for  which. 
he  has  worked  so  hard. 

(At  this  point  a  man  comes  running  towards 
the  two  officers,  shouting.) 

Shot!  Shot!  President  Lincoln  has  been 
shot! 

Crowd  gathers  from  all  directions. 

First  Officer  (excitedly),— Shot!  what  do 
you  mean? 

Man  (still  shouting),  — Shot  by  a  crazy  actor 
in  Ford's  theatre,  and  there  is  no  hope! 

The  two  officers  force  their  way  through  the 
crowd  as  they  hurry  down  the  street  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  theatre. 

Old  Negro  Woman  (screaming),  —  Massa 
Linkum,  good  Massa  Linkum !  De  Lord  neber 
let  such  harm  come  to  de  Savior  of  dis  people ! 
No !  No !  No ! 

Women  in  the  crowd  begin  to  sob. 

Newcomer,  (joining  the  crowd), — Yes,  it  is 
true.  There  is  no  hope.  The  Friend  of  his  peo- 
ple is  sinking  fast.     The  doctors  believe  that  he 


84  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

will  not  last  till  morning. 

Voice  from  the  Crowd, — No  hope ! 

One  After  Another,  —  No  hope !  No 
hope! 

Old  Man,— What  will  become  of  the  coun- 
try now? 

Man  (who  brought  the  news  that  Lincoln  was 
sinking) ,— Our  President  has  saved  the  country, 
but  he  has  lost  his  life  in  doing  it. 

One  of  the  Crowd,— To  the  White  House, 
to  hear  all  we  can. 

(He  hurries  away,  and  the  others  follow.) 


